


Former Heroes (Who Quit Too Late)

by clockworkcuttlefish



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Improvement?, F/M, Gen, I do what I want, Long-Term Relationship(s), you'll pry revanasi and female revan from my cold dead hands swtor fight me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-05-13 17:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 60,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5711062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworkcuttlefish/pseuds/clockworkcuttlefish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the former Darth Revan disappeared from known space, she left a lover and a child behind -- and Carth Onasi refused to let her go quietly. After their daughter is taken by the Jedi, Carth takes drastic measures that catapult him into the turmoil of the Galactic Cold War.</p><p>Reunited against impossible odds, Carth and Revan face the idea that the Force has not quite finished with them -- and in a galaxy that still trembles where she walks, how could one man's influence change the course of the future?<br/>---<br/>SWTOR-era Revanasi AU, featuring Revanna Galon/Anna Kyjjl and my in-game Galon Legacy, because I reject canon and substitute my own - if that bothers you, that's not my problem. Some eventual spoilers for the JK, JC, and SI quest-lines, post-Corellia content, SoR, and early KotFE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heroes Always Get Remembered

**Author's Note:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK!
> 
> It's me, ignoring the fact that I have two fics that need to be finished and haven't been updated in like a year. Anyway, this has been demanding writing for a while and it's getting written now, so we're all going back into Revanasi-land while the KotOR 2 and Normandy crews wait to come back from vacation. Gonna be a fun ride, kids, let's buckle up.
> 
> Currently planning to update biweekly - Tuesdays and Fridays, probably. We'll see how that works out for us.
> 
> Oh yeah, story title is from FOB "The Kids Aren't Alright," it was my working title during NaNo and just stuck.

Feeling was acutely inescapable, his nerves firing all at once in a never-ending cascade, starting from his fingertips until it reached his spine. Blood roared to life in his ears, deafening in its suddenness, skin burning. He lurched forward instinctively, to escape whatever was causing it – someone caught him during his vain escape attempt, before it ended with an undignified face-plant. He gripped their arm hard as they lowered him to his knees, and the heat ravaging his skin slowly retreated.

“Anna?” he breathed, voice grating in his throat as the heat on his skin was quickly replaced by freezing cold. He thought they answered, but rushing torrent in his ears drowned it — but he knew, somehow, that it wasn’t _her_. He took several deep breaths, chest aching as his muscles protested. “Where is she?” he repeated.

“I am sorry, Admiral. She is not here.” A woman spoke, louder this time, cutting through the unending roar. “Thaymina, blanket.” Something heavy and warm had just been wrapped around his shoulders when his sluggish brain registered the words. He gripped harder.

“Put me back.”

“Admiral … it has been three centuries. We must admit that Revan is likely long-dead.”

“I don’t care,” he snapped. “Put me back. She isn’t. I’d know. I’d—”

The woman helped him to a chair with a sigh. “I believe we will be fine from here,” she said, and he suspected it wasn’t to him. “You should return to your duties.”

Another woman immediately answered her, voice level but wavering. “But — Master Satele, with my expertise —”

“I am sure the Temple healers will manage, Thaymina.”

There was a pause, followed by a quiet “Of course, Grand Master,” and the sudden sensation that there were now fewer people near him.

“Admiral Onasi,” the first woman said, pulling away from him. “I will have our medics look over you.”

“Where am I?”

“The Jedi Temple, on Tython.”

“Tython? Where is … what about—”

“I will explain everything later.”

He didn’t know if it was hibernation sickness or not, but she sounded an awful lot like Bastila did when she was impatient.

“Who are you?”

“Grand Master Satele Shan.”

His heart paused momentarily, the roar subsiding for the briefest moment. He couldn’t have heard that properly — could he? It had to be the roar in his ears, confusion from the carbonite — “Shan?”

“Yes. You knew one of my ancestors.”

Knew? One of his last memories had been her begging him to reconsider — “Yeah,” Carth said. “Something like that.”

#

After a cursory exam by someone who barely spoke, and with no sign of his vision returning in a prompt fashion, Carth was helped to a chair somewhere. He wanted to complain about being led, but bit it back down. He’d known the side effects of carbonite hibernation when he’d come up with this idea — he’d known what to expect when he came out. But he’d expected it to be _her_ freeing him, hoped so hard that he’d started to feel her features against the pads of his fingers as he stepped into the freezing chamber.

But _she_ wasn’t here, and he was having trouble with his short-term memory. That, at least, was the carbonite.

Someone sat down across from him and he leaned on a table, resting his eyes in his hand.

“Admiral Onasi, I—”

“What was your name again?” Was this what she’d felt like, waking up on Taris with no idea who or where she was? If it was, he was handling it better than she had.

“Satele Shan.” Right, Bastila’s. Grand Master. He thought.

“Right. Sorry.”

“No, there is no need to apologize.”

“Where is—”

“Revan has been missing since your time, presumed dead in the Unknown Regions.”

“Then why—”

With how quickly she answered, he suspected that he’d asked all this before. “We need your help. A Sith Empire attacked the Republic eleven years ago. I, and many others, suspect she faced them at least once before. Perhaps your knowledge would —”

Carth responded with an irritated hmph. “ _You’re_ Jedi. That’s _your_ area of expertise.”

“Admiral—”

“For — you woke me up on a whim. I said _Revan_ , when _Revan_ came back. What part of that involved _information_? None of it!”

Satele somehow made the same noise Bastila had whenever she was irritated. “I had little choice in the matter, Admiral. It was a decision made by the Council, and I—”

“The Council in my day blackmailed her with me to keep her in line. Saying it was Council-ordered _hardly_ makes me feel better.”

“Regardless of whether you appreciate it or not, Admiral, you are awake now.” Now, _that_ tone was definitely genetic. “You have knowledge and skills that could be of use to both the Republic and the Jedi. You may have information vital to the defeat of the Empire and the salvation of the Republic.” Something creaked again, and he realized she’d gotten to her feet. “I suggest you rest and recover. I will send someone to help you shortly.”

She stepped past him, and he reached out to stop her. “Master Shan.”

“Yes, Admiral?”

“She isn’t dead. I would know.”

“Admiral—”

“I would _know_ ,” he insisted.

Three hundred years — no. It didn’t matter. If he focused past the nausea wracking his gut and the fog settled in his brain he could tell, he _knew_. Back in that place in his chest, he _knew_. If she was dead, why could he still feel her life at the end of it? That _was_ how it worked … right?

“Of course, Admiral,” Satele placated, and a door closed. Carth sighed and rested his head heavier in his hand.

 Carth wasn’t sure how long he sat there — admittedly, he might have fallen asleep — trying to focus on that warm feeling deep in his chest. She’d told him it was a Force Bond, like the one she had with Bastila, just weaker, connecting them no matter how distant they were. And if he focused, thought hard enough, he could still feel something on that other end. Something that seemed to be stirring … as if his waking made something there live.

If it were anything else, he would have let his cynicism overrule it. But it was her … and if he believed in anything, he believed in _her_.

At some point the door opened again and he jumped, perhaps waking out of a half-contemplative slumber. Someone, and what sounded like a droid, stepped in, and they closed the door behind them. “Admiral Onasi,” a lilting female voice said, accompanied by the sounds of several things being set down on solid objects. “I am Master Mara’ja Vay. Master Satele and Master Thaymina have asked me to help with your recovery.”

“I take it you know who I am, then.”

She laughed. “Of course. Thaymina could hardly contain her excitement when she spoke to me an hour ago. Since I am currently pursuing academic concerns whilst she is off mending the galaxy, she wanted to make sure you were in good hands.”

“Am I?”

“Well … I’m not sure she knows how to make a bad decision.” Mara’ja cleared her throat. “I’ve brought along the personal effects that were with you in the Temple, as well as a change of clothes and some food. After centuries in carbonite, I can only imagine you feel unpleasant. You’ve been given a guest room, so there is a ‘fresher attached — will you need anything else immediately?”

He waved his hand at her. “I don’t think so.” No, right now, he’d much rather be considering a way to get _back_ into carbonite, and maybe this time they’d only unfreeze him if _she_ was standing there waiting for him.

“Very well. I also brought along C4-J3, in case you need assistance when I am not here — J3 has my commlink. If that is all, I will take my leave.” Carth nodded, and the door gently closed.

It took some time but Carth eventually managed to find and use the fresher and exchange his clothes with the new ones, without breaking his neck or having J3 insist on helping. The food Mara’ja left was the same thing he’d grown used to after living in a Jedi enclave for six months, lean and extremely dry high-energy fare. He tried not to think while he ate or showered, because it inevitably led to the same place. He was here, and no one else was. And now, thanks to some typically overly-meddling Jedi, the main reason he’d frozen himself to begin with wasn’t there, either.

Carth fell asleep a short time later, waking up still blind and severely needing a stiff drink. Almost on cue there was a light tapping on his door, light enough that for a moment he thought it might be in his head.

“Yeah?”

“It’s me, Admiral,” Mara’ja answered. Carth sighed and pulled himself to his feet, feeling his way back over to the table.

“Come in.”

The door opened and something clicked. Light exploded in his eyes, and he yelped and threw his arm over them. “Oh!” Mara’ja said hurriedly, setting something down. Another click and the light disappeared, leaving him back in comfortable darkness. “I didn’t realize you’d be recovering so quickly. My apologies.”

“‘S’fine,” he mumbled.

“I brought dinner,” she continued. “J3 said you were asleep, last I stopped by, so I did not want to disturb you.”

“How long ago was that?”

“About four hours. I was called away almost immediately after — training accident with the Padawans. How are you feeling, Admiral?”

“Just Carth. I’m not an Admiral anymore — think Dodonna was going to put me down as killed in action.” He fumbled and found the water she’d brought. “Master Vay—”

“Oh, please don’t. Just Mara, or Mara’ja if you must. I’m far too young for the title.”

“Yeah, uh …” He decided then that he had two options: he could sit about and sulk, as he desperately wanted to do. Or he could follow that single warm, desperate thread deeper into the dispassionate galaxy, hunting it to its source — and to _her_ , he was sure of it. But for that, he needed information. “Do you have some time?”

“Of course.”

“Could you tell me what it’s like out there?”

Mara’ja replied with a deep exhale, and the other chair in the room creaked. “That’s a tall order, Carth. But I will do my best.”


	2. Defrosting

It took about two days for his sight to return, and about another day and a half before he spent more hours awake than asleep. Mara’ja turned out to be a young Togruta Master, with deep purple skin and navy-and-white montrals. He mentioned it once, only for her to laugh.

“It’s a rare color, yes,” she’d said. “If you ask those on my homeworld, I’m destined to either die young or change the course of history. No pressure.”

The Grand Master visited him a few times, and Carth tried to figure out just why he merited her attention — when Revan was around, they’d done as much as possible to avoid Vandar’s. Satele hardly looked like Bastila, but there was something around her eyes, or in the easy carry of a doublesaber on her hip — or perhaps in the way that, today, her face had already started to scrunch up _before_ she sat down across from him.

“How are you feeling?” she asked. A safe topic.

“Like I was frozen for three hundred years and then woke up for no reason,” Carth replied flatly, running a cloth over his blaster. Her face scrunched further. He’d been thinking over the past two days about that warm spot in his chest, to the point that he’d asked Mara’ja about it. It hadn’t helped his suspicions. If anything, he was more certain she _was_ alive, out there somewhere — though a sense of cold emptiness surrounded it, almost holding it back, and he wondered if that was why she’d never come home.

Satele cleared her throat. “I see. Well. I am glad you are recovering quickly. I have heard that hibernation sickness can be unpleasant.”

“It is.”

“Admiral …” Satele sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Admiral, she would not want you to spend an eternity locked away when the Republic has use of you.”

He paused, staring down at his blaster. “You read her letter.”

“A draft was in the writings she left my ancestor — an edited draft, but one nonetheless.”

Carth grumbled under his breath. That letter had been _private_. “And when we find her,” he said, finally. “I know she’ll give me hell for not listening to her.”

“Admiral—”

“How many times do I have to tell you? She’s out there, waiting. Why aren’t you looking for her?”

“Where would we start? Wherever she walked, Revan left no trace. There are a billion worlds out there she may have found, and a billion more where she may have died.”

“This was _Revan_.”

“I am aware of her capabilities. But even a powerful Jedi could not survive three hundred years — not easily.”

He half-laughed, shaking his head as he returned to his blaster. “You didn’t know her. If anyone could ...”

“Are you certain you are not letting your—”

“‘—feelings cloud my judgment?’” Satele blinked. “Does it matter? She’s out there.”

“Admiral, I did not wake you up for no reason.”

“No, you woke me up on some quest for a hero.”

Satele sighed, and her face unscrunched as she stood. “Very well. I will leave you to your maintenance.” As the door opened, she turned back. “Master Thaymina will be landing shortly. I suggest you prepare yourself.”

With that, the door slid closed behind her. Carth sighed and set his blasters on his table, leaning his head against the wall. He probably shouldn’t be surprised. Mara’ja had said her friend was a Master with a vested interest in Revan-era Force techniques and philosophy, and that she would _love_ to talk to him. She hadn’t told him why, or what this particular Master would get from talking to him, just that the conversation was inevitable. _And_ she seemed to get some type of glee out of telling him, though that might have been his paranoia.

With another sigh he picked one of his blasters back up, reaching for a can of oil.

#

Another few hours passed before someone knocked on his door again. Carth had finally finished with his blasters, and was considering an attempt at dragging himself around this corner of the Temple again, but called them in. The door opened immediately, revealing a tall, willowy Jedi Master wearing the long, ornate robes of a diplomat, but — no. He blinked as she drifted in. Vivid red hair was piled on top of her head and hung braided down her back, and she had curious, steel-gray eyes that hardly left him as she entered.

 _Revan_ _’s_ eyes.

But that was impossible.

“Admiral,” she said. Her voice was on the husky side, almost too deep for her build and features. She held out her hand, and shook his with a firmness he should have expected. “Master Satele says she warned you I was coming. I hope you haven’t heard _only_ bad things about me.”

“I’ve heard you’re enthusiastic,” he said. She laughed, and something scraped in his chest. It sounded so much like _hers_ had.

“I suppose that is flattering. Are you feeling well enough for visitors? This will be my last time on Tython for some weeks, I’m afraid.”

Carth motioned at the seat across from him, and she sank down with the ease he’d grown to expect from those raised in the Temple.

“Master Thaymina Galon,” she said, motioning to herself. That knife scraped in his chest again. Galon? It couldn’t be. “Currently acting as a diplomat for the Republic. I have a number of questions for you — as I’m sure you have for me.”

“I …” he started, swallowing hard. “Galon?”

She nodded, frowning. “I _expected_ Mara’ja to have mentioned it before now … figures.” Thaymina carefully folded one leg over the other. “I, and my twin sister, can trace our lineage back to your daughter, Nova, and of course, you and Revanna Galon. We don’t tend to spread this around. Popular history has made Revan a man, after all, and says that Grand Master Shan is his. Though not _entirely_ incorrect — the Grand Master and I are second cousins, in fact — I prefer to stay under the radar.” She smiled at him, and Carth wondered his sudden ease was a Force trick on her behalf, or if that was simply her. “I’m sure you can understand my interest, based on that.”

“It’s a lot clearer, yeah.” Having children was one thing, but … he felt another, sharper pang of guilt. If he’d waited, if he’d not frozen himself in carbonite — what had he missed when he made that decision? Had he just been overreacting? Should he have listened to Bastila when she tried talking him out of it?

“Mara’ja said she filled you in on current events,” Thaymina continued. “I—”

“Wait.” Carth held up his hand, suddenly piecing together what she’d said. “Revan and _Bastila_?”

“Apparently.”

He shook his head. “Bas would be turning in her grave.”

Thaymina laughed again. “I thought I might be able to fill you in on more … _personal_ information. Our family has kept fairly detailed records through the years — I likely know more than you would even find in the archives.”

“Did she ever come back?”

“No,” Thaymina said, firmly.

“No?”

“There is no record of Revan ever returning to known space, not even under any of the various and colorful aliases I am aware of. When I knew the Grand Master planned to pull you out of carbonite, I went back through my records. No one has seen her, or any indication of her, since she left.”

That was that, then. He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you think she’s still out there?”

Thaymina frowned. “Master Satele didn’t tell you …” His heart fell, and he shook his head. She sighed. “Just like her. I apologize, Admiral, she is not the most forthcoming of persons.”

“You can just … Carth is fine. And what didn’t—”

“There were visions involved.”

Not too long ago, Carth would have scoffed. Visions once ranked even higher on his bantha-shit meter than Satele’s current explanation for his release. But _that_ explained it. Even if he was hesitant to take visions at their word, he wasn’t going to dismiss it. Not after everything he’d seen with Revan … and her own visions …

“She’s a good Grand Master,” Thaymina continued. “Especially during this war. But she tends to expect non-Jedi to be much more skeptical of these things than we are — which is largely true. Knowing what I know of you, though—”

He shook his head. “I’ve seen too much.”

“As I suspected.”

“Were they of her? Was she involved?”

Thaymina sighed. “When my sister, Mariamne, and I approached the Council with them, their conclusions were mixed. Many believed Revan was not involved — I disagreed. The only thing we agreed on was _you_.”

“You disagree with the Council?”

“What can I say? I take after my great-grandmother far more than is healthy.” He managed to grin at that. Part of it was actual humor — it hurt to think that _she_ would have, too. “But no, Carth, I suspect she’s still out there. If anyone could find a way —”

“It’d be Anna. Revan.”

“Yes. Unfortunately, as I said, the Council is reluctant to share my convictions — understandable, but irritating. And,” she continued dryly, “I can do little to convince them whilst single-handedly keeping the Republic from falling apart.” 

Carth chuckled. “Sorry, you just … sound so much like her.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Good.”

Something chirped on Thaymina’s belt — Carth was embarrassed to admit it took him a moment to recognize a comm ringing. Thaymina sighed. “One moment.” Carth nodded as she answered. A hologram of a large, bulky Zabrak, wearing a heavy robe over Jedi armor, appeared on top of the small disk.

:: _Thay. Where are you?_ ::

“I’m on Tatooine,” she replied, flatly. Carth half-grinned. “I thought the sun would help my complexion.”

:: _So you_ _’re still in the Temple, good. Your diplomats are getting antsy. A situation’s just come up that they want you to deal with._ ::

“Of course it has. Assure them that I will be right there.” She disconnected the call and looked up with a sigh. “I’m sorry, Carth, I have to leave. But I would very much like to talk to you longer — when I don’t have this alliance breathing down my neck, perhaps.”

“That bad?”

“I’m still surprised the diplomats don’t insist that I, _personally_ , take out their garbage,” she answered. As she opened the door, she turned back. “When you’re feeling better, I suggest speaking to Master Katherion. Tell him I said to stop by.”

“Why?”

She smiled. “Just trust me.”

#

He recognized her almost before he saw her, a diminutive form with vivid red hair cascading loose down her back on the edge of a hill overlooking the Dantooine Jedi enclave. He blinked once or twice, trying to convince himself, before stepping forward hesitantly.

“Anna?”

She turned, and it _was_ her.

Revan was hunched over, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She wore torn, simple black robes with enough billow for most Sith Lords, engulfing her already small form in a veritable sea of black cloth. It flowed around her, and when he stepped closer he noticed her hair had the same light lift — almost as if she were underwater, but not quite _enough_ for that.

“Anna?” he breathed again, searching her face. She hardly looked older than the day she’d left, only the barest crows’ feet encroaching at the corner of her haunted gray eyes. She stared at him, almost blankly, for a long moment, and Carth’s heart fell. “Gorgeous—”

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head and stepping back.

“What?”

“No,” she snapped. Revan whirled away from him, tilting her face towards the sky. “You hear me, _buir ik_ _’aad gotaan_? I put up with a lot of your shit, but I will _not_ tolerate this!”

He called her name again, this time reaching for her arm. His fingers brushed her and his hand was thrown back, like an electrical charge had burst between them. She turned back, staring at him the desperate way a dying man stares at an oasis in a desert.

“Carth?” she breathed. He nodded, and she shook her head. “No, no, no, it can’t … you can’t … it’s been at least three hundred years. You can’t—”

“Be here? Because I am.” She shook her head again, lowering her eyes as she mumbled _no_ to herself.

It struck him that it was possible, albeit highly unlikely, that this wasn’t a typical dream. It wouldn’t have been the first dream between her leaving and the carbonite, but it was the first where she appeared like this, small and beaten and … _broken_ , his brain added unhelpfully.

“Where are you?” he whispered. He desperately wanted to reach for her again, but he feared another shock like that could jolt him awake, make him lose her — and that he didn’t want. She raised her head and looked around.

“Hoth?” she said, then added a laugh that lacked any mirth. “Or at least, that’s the only place I can think of that’s this godsdamned white and cold.”

“Is that—”

“No, no, I’m … I don’t know, Carth. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know how you’re here. I don’t…” Her voice broke again, and she looked away. “I don’t know. I’m… I’m so tired.”

“Gorgeous—”

“Carth, please, I-I don’t know.”

“Anna, I’m going to find you. I don’t know what’s happening, but I’ll find you.”

“Carth.” She shook her head. “No. You can’t. You don’t know who this is, you don’t know what he can do. Promise me that you won’t look for me.”

“No.”

“ _Promise me_!” Revan demanded. Carth shook his head and started to argue as the wind picked up on the plane around them, brushing the tall grass against his legs. Revan’s head jerked up as the sky above them darkened, black fringed with purple light slowly spreading across the pale blue. “Shit,” she breathed.

“What—”

The wind swirled harder, whipping his clothes around him — he half expected Revan to fly, with the way her robes snapped. When he looked back he found her face blank of emotion, except _maybe_ the slightest hint of moisture at the corner of her eyes. She raised her hand.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Carth promptly found himself perched precariously on the side of his bed, arms windmilling as he fought a losing battle with gravity. He picked himself off the floor, kicking his sheets where they were tangled around his legs. With a huff he grabbed for a timepiece nearby.

Four. He groaned and slammed it back onto the table, dragging himself into bed and throwing his arm over his eyes.

A few moments later the door opened and he groaned as light rolled in from the hallway. He turned towards the wall.

“I heard a commotion in here, Admiral Onasi, are you well?” C4-J3 inquired. He groaned again.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled. “Close the door.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to mention on my last note, and now that Thay has reared her head, I have a legacy page on my tumblr blog (clockworkcuttlefish.tumblr.com/galonlegacy) for the SWTOR side of things. Some of the characters are incomplete, but I'm filling it in as I play them more.
> 
> Also, thanks to thepetrichist for putting up with me talking to her constantly about this, and almost literally everything else ever.


	3. Old Friends

 

Carth finally regained the majority of his strength after a few more days of rest, though the constant presence of Mara’ja made it difficult to explore unaccosted. She seemed intent to keep him confined to Temple grounds as much as possible. After spending six months essentially confined to the Enclave on Dantooine, being around a sizable number of Jedi was not daunting — but that certainly didn’t mean he wanted a repeat of the experience.

The one exception was a several-day long trip off-world to Coruscant, to meet with Republic High Command. There had been a significant change in the planet, something Mara’ja attributed to damage from the Sacking, but it otherwise seemed much the same as he remembered. Command did, as well. They had initially been interested in meeting him but, after determining he had little to offer in the way of answers, Command said they would be in contact.

Carth recognized a dismissal when he heard one.

After returning to Tython, and misplacing his Togruta babysitter, he headed for a large collection of holos on Tython’s second floor. There he found the Master that Thaymina had recommended to him, a large, broad Cathar, and got his attention.

“Master Katherion.” He nodded. “Master Galon — er, Thaymina, told me to find you.”

“Ah yes.” Katherion didn’t seem surprised to see him. “Follow me.”

He was taken to another room off the holo library, occupied only by a large console with three depressions in the top, each holding what he thought _looked_ like Jedi holocrons. Small flickers of light danced across the edges, moving quicker as Katherion held his hand over the console with a frown.

“Hm. Yes. This one.” He carefully removed the holocron from its cradle, set it on the floor, and folded his hands to his chest. Carth crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall.

“There,” Katherion finally said, as the holocron bloomed with light. “I will be right outside, should you need assistance.”

As Katherion closed the door behind himself, three shimmering, white figures appeared in front of the holocron, in the middle of a heated discussion about something Force-related. Carth scanned them uninterestedly until he saw the third, when he straightened and lowered his arms. She was familiar, like an older …

“Bastila?”

The woman’s head jerked over, studied him for a second, and blinked. The holoimage held out her hand to her companions.

“I believe this is a private call.” The two men nodded and disappeared, though there was still the briefest, unintelligible muttering indicating that the argument was proceeding, and she lowered her hand. “Carth?” Bastila almost whispered, disbelieving. “But if you’re here—”

“She isn’t.” Bastila sighed and shook her head. “She never came back? You—”

“No, not that I am aware. And I was to be told the _moment_ she did.”

“Yeah, they aren’t big on listening to that sort of thing these days.”

“I’m sorry, Carth. I am.”

He shook his head. “What did you do, Bastila?” he asked, motioning to the hologram vaguely. He knew this _couldn_ _’t_ be Bastila, that was impossible, but he wanted to _believe_ it was. Badly. “What—”

“It is me, technically,” she explained. “This is a Noetikon, and this one is the Noetikon of Secrets — for distinguished Masters who fell and returned. Why they asked me to join it, I’ve no idea. Perhaps because Revan was unavailable. But, no, this is like a holocron — a recording of my memory and knowledge, made near the end of my life. It _is_ me, and it _is not_ me.”

Carth bit back the vague disappointment that welled up inside him. But when he awoke, he’d expected to have Revan there too — not just himself and a cold, unfeeling galaxy. He had known that this couldn’t _actually_ be Bastila … but it hadn’t kept him from somehow hoping that she was, either.

“There’s been no news?” Bastila asked. “Nothing at all? Sightings, rumors—”

He shook his head. “Plenty of rumors, all bogus. Nothing more solid than legends. Most people think she was a man, anyway.”

Bastila replied with an undignified snort. “To be fair, so did most in our time. Even I did, until boarding her flagship.”

“Fair enough. But — Bastila.” If _anyone_ would believe him, _she_ would. “I _know_ she’s alive. I … feel her? You know? She’s out there, somewhere.”

Bastila nodded as she looked away, rubbing her jaw. “I have never believed otherwise,” she said. “I only felt her presence diminish, never fail entirely. If you — the bond between you and Anna was not like the one between her and I. It was weaker, made more by choice than by circumstance. If you still feel her, she _must_ be out there. I know you won’t, but … do not let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“I haven’t.”

“Good.”

“Bastila…” She nodded. “They said a vision made them pull me out of carbonite. No one will tell me what it was, just that it was shared by two of our descendants, and they saw me ‘standing, holding back the darkness.’” _That_ he’d pried out of Satele, on the trip to Coruscant, though it’d taken almost the entire trip. “And something about Revan, _maybe_ , if you ask Master Galon.”

“I’ve met her. I was almost positive she was a Galon without her telling me.”

“She’s a Shan, too, apparently.”

“What?” Bastila threw her hands up. “My children have no taste.”

“Ouch! Right to the heart, Bastila.”

She half-laughed. “Believe me, I have to get Anna’s bad influence out somehow. These two?” She motioned back to the Noetikon, softly glowing on the floor behind her. “They returned _completely_ to the light. Had the situation with Anna, and the Jedi Civil War, not encouraged me to see the hypocrisy inherent in conservative waves of the Order, I would sound _exactly_ like them. I cannot believe I find that thought frightening now.” She shook her head.

“This vision … it isn’t odd that they have not told you more, but given your ties to Revan, it seems negligent at best — as does ignoring that she is likely at their heart, as always. But, of course, this is the Council. It would be remiss to think anything had changed.” Bastila rubbed her jaw again. “I wish I could tell you more, but without the actual vision... But if— if people are having visions of _you_ , she _must_ be concerned. I suspect …”

Bastila was quiet for a while. Carth finally cleared his throat. “You suspect?”

“I suspect many things, Carth Onasi,” she retorted. “But certainly that, after her brief time in the Republic after the end of the Jedi Civil War, she valued your opinion highly. Perhaps your role in this vision is simply that — if she is still out there, and if anyone could keep Revan from threatening the Republic again, in this time, I believe it is you. If she is given any leeway in a war against the Sith Empire she expected to find in the Unknown Regions, I fear she would once again follow a familiar path. Eventually, the galaxy might thank you for your foresight.”

Carth laughed. “I doubt that. No one even thinks she’s alive — well, Thaymina does, but she’s it. The Grand Master might kick me out if I mention it again.”

“Don’t worry, Carth. Anna will prove them wrong, as she always does.”

Carth sighed, thrusting his hands into his pockets. He sincerely wished he shared Bastila’s optimism, but it was difficult to imagine _him_ keeping Revan from doing anything she didn’t want to do.

"Bastila," he said finally. "I almost hate to ask, but Nova--"

“When I made this imprint,” Bastila said with a sigh. “I was 110. Nova was 90, and one of our best Masters. She and I had been on the Council for over fifty years by then. She was …” She smiled wanly. “She was so much like both of you. When she was a girl I took her as a Padawan, because how could I not? I told her everything I knew about the both of you. I knew it would be important, and I didn’t want all Revan did to be erased or lost. Anna would have been proud of her, I think. I hope. She was so much more patient than both of you — I would like to think it was my influence.” Carth chuckled. “But no, Carth, she did so well. I never told her what you did, though. That I kept to myself. I do not know if she eventually found out, but I thought it more respectful of you to keep it private.”

Carth frowned, but didn’t voice his thought — perhaps it would have been better to have told her. Even though he _knew_ , deep in his core, that Revan was still out there, he couldn’t help feeling that _logically_ , going into carbonite had been a mistake.

“She did so well for herself,” Bastila said. “I wish you both had been here.”

He nodded, looking away. “And you? After what happened with the Triumvirate—”

“It was … difficult, but we rebuilt. By the time I made this recording, we had nearly reached the same strength we had at the end of the Jedi Civil War, and we were projected to regain the numbers lost during both that and the Mandalorian Wars within two hundred years. We had lost so many on Katarr, but many came out of hiding within a year after we retook the Temple.”

“Did you ever find Jolee? Juhani?”

She shook her head. “Juhani was not at Katarr, but we never found her, either. Jolee … he took a few Knights, Initiates, and Padawans with him when we disappeared. Once we had the resources, I had the idea to check the Shadowlands. They weren’t able to hear our communications. He … joined with the Force a month before we were able to reach Kashyyyk. Zaalbar’s village had sheltered them, just before Katarr.

“Before you ask — we lost contact with Canderous not long after the business with the Triumvirate ended. Trista went to check Dxun but the Mandalorians had moved, with no indication to where they went. Mission kept up with her business. I’m somewhat certain she was running a large smuggling ring behind it, to be frank. But she became comfortably wealthy, and an ardent supporter of the Order during the few times the Republic took offense to us after the Triumvirate.”

“Good.” That pang of doubt struck him again. He had abandoned literally everything, and everyone left that he cared about, because he’d had some vague notion that Revan wouldn’t be back within his lifetime and he _refused_ to let that happen. But maybe he should have.

“Carth,” Bastila said, almost as if she could tell the deepening conflict he was experiencing. “For what it is worth, I believe you did what you should have done.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. Like I said, I do not doubt that Revan is alive. And if there is a war, and if it is with the Empire she sought in the Unknown Regions … then I worry she might repeat her own history to defeat them. With you there, perhaps she will be able to resist.”

“I think you overestimate my abilities. We know Anna, but this is _Revan_ we’re talking about, Bastila. If she gets it into her head to do something, I won’t be able to stop her.”

“And I think you underestimate your abilities, Carth Onasi,” she replied, frowning at him. “If there is anyone she would hear, it would be me, you, or Jolee. And given that the latter two are not present, the task falls to you. She loves you, Carth — certainly more deeply than she loved Alek. If she is smart, she recognizes the danger she is in, and she will defer to your opinions if she starts to cross the line. If she is not …” Bastila sighed. “If she is not, then whatever kept her from coming home will have damaged her beyond repair, and I fear the Republic will not survive her quest for vengeance.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Carth sighed. “I hope you are.”


	4. Wanted: Anything but This

**4: Wanted: Anything but This**

“You need to get out more,” Satele had said. “You cannot idly sit around waiting for a great epiphany, and your considerable talents are being wasted by Command. I suggest you accompany the Galon twins and their escorts on this mission — they will need a reliable pilot.”

And that had been that. He’d learned a long time ago that, while not his direct superior, it was impossible to ignore a “suggestion” from the Grand Master of the Jedi Order. Now he was lagging behind the redheaded twins and one Zabrak on board the Valor-class cruiser _Telos_ as they approached the office assigned to Master Oteg.

Of course the ship was the frakking _Telos_.

Thaymina checked with the guard stationed outside and motioned them after her. Oteg was a tiny alien of the same species as Vandar — for a moment, Carth wondered if they were related — currently standing in the center circle of a desk. As the door closed behind them, he turned back.

“Ah, good, welcome, Barsen’thor, friends. I appreciate you taking the time speak with me.”

“It was no trouble, Master Oteg,” Thaymina said graciously as Carth leaned back on the rear wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

“But you and dear Mariamne are so busy being proper young Jedi.” Thaymina’s twin, much quieter and with a stockier, shorter build, scuffed the deck with the toe of her boot. “That you would come help an old man is admirable. And Admiral Onasi, Master Shan said you might be joining us.”

“Yeah,” Carth said, simply.

“To business, then.” Oteg scanned them for a moment before clearing his throat. “I ask that you would keep an open mind to what you are about to hear. The source of my information is … unconventional.”

“Not a standard operation, then,” Mariamne said.

“Hardly.” He motioned with his hands. “We will need to open ourselves to the Force.” Carth bit his lip and studiously stared towards the ceiling. Frakking Jedi. “Concentrate. Feel the Force around you.”

“What, exactly, am I listening for?” Thaymina asked.

The big, tan Zabrak and Thaymina’s so-called bodyguard, Gav’riel, was closest to Carth, and muttered something about not being good at this sort of thing. Carth’s lips twitched.

“A voice that seeks to be heard. Focus, and you will know.”

Nothing happened for a while. Carth frowned deeper and shifted against the wall, leaning his head against it. He’d seen a lot of things, traveling with Revan … but he certainly didn’t understand them.

The lights in the room flickered and he instinctively grabbed for the wall, ready for the ship to tilt from power loss. When that didn’t happen and the lights instead went out, they were plunged into darkness for the briefest of seconds. As suddenly as the lights had failed, a pale gray glow started in the corner of the room, back by the door. He straightened and watched the Jedi turn as Oteg padded through, stopping as the glow coalesced into a rough, kneeling humanoid form — the vaguest wisps of energy in a soft shape.

That was when the voice started. Like the shadow it had no detail to it, too echoy to define. But the words were unmistakable, and he felt them cut to his spine.

_I will not serve_ , the voice murmured, hardly loud enough to hear. The words sounded old, oft-repeated, like they were the only thing standing between the speaker and insanity. _I did my best, I will not serve. Remember the fires, remember the glass. Blood and broken worlds and masks. No cost too great, no price too small, burning worlds remind us all. Jedi rise and Jedi burn, broken, dying, Sith to turn. This your sacrifice to make, someday his tyranny to break._

_There is no emotion, there is serenity. There is no weakness, there is strength. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, the Force shall free me. Nothing lasts forever. There is no pain, I will not serve. I did my best, I will not serve. There is no pain_ _…_

As suddenly as it was there, it was gone. The lights flickered back, the noise of the ship around them — so constant that he’d forgotten it — swelling back into their ears. The Jedi stared at the spot for a while, before Thaymina shook her head. “That was …”

Carth closed his eyes, drawing several deep, steadying breaths. To think there was something familiar about a vague human form and a voice on the edge of a fraying sanity … he knew the implication. He was just being desperate.

For once, he _didn_ _’t_ want to find _her_ at the end of this trail.

“Was that a spirit?” Mariamne asked.

“It was, and it was not,” Oteg said, continuing to stare at the empty space where the figure had been. “The Jedi we heard is in a … sensitive position between life and death. I did not recognize it when I first heard them.” Oteg padded back to his desk. “After realizing the severity of the situation, I began to investigate. My efforts have direct us to an obscure Imperial prison in the treacherous Maelstrom Nebula … and a way to get there. A Gree computer, hidden at an Imperial fortress. I believe we can agree that a Jedi prisoner powerful enough to send these echoes in the Force is not one that should be left in the Emperor’s hands.”

Powerful enough to … Carth rested his head in his hand. He had no idea what power would be required, but he had personally gone through every list of missing Jedi since the Jedi Civil War. None were of significant power _and_ still listed as missing.

None except for _her_.

_Shit,_ he thought.

“The Emperor has gone to great lengths to conceal this prison — and this Jedi — from us. My suspicion is that they may hold the key to the Emperor’s defeat. Therefore, it is imperative that we rescue them.”

“Won’t this damage our peace with—”

“The peace with the Empire was always tenuous at best. You, of all, must be aware of the fractures, Master Thaymina.” The taller woman sighed and nodded, crossing her own arms. “The fortress is on the planet Taral-Five, deep in the Empire. There will be too many enemy warships for my fleet to manage, but we have secured an Imperial shuttle that is waiting for you in the hangar. Our fleet will follow you to the edge of the sector, and provide support should you require it.”

“Then we should not waste time.” Mariamne and Gav’riel nodded in agreement.

“Go to the shuttle bay. I will remain within range during your mission. If you have any trouble, we will come running. Now hurry. We should not delay.”

Carth pulled himself off the wall and followed them, mind still churning. He wanted this to be her about as much as he hoped it wouldn’t be. To think of what had put her in that state, or what state she could be in when they reached her … it was not a thing he wanted to consider.

He’d started to get angry at her again, now that he was out of carbonite — how dare she leave him? How dare she not be there when their daughter showed signs of the Force in front of another Jedi, when he’d been trying so hard to hide it? She could have talked them out of taking her, they could have … but now, if that _was_ her they’d heard, if she was actually trapped in this nebula the way Oteg insisted, if the universe or the Force or _whatever_ was aligning just right _enough_ — how could he be?

How could he be if she’d suffered this much while he’d been comfortably asleep?

“Carth?”

He jumped, unaware that he’d followed them into the elevator, or that Thaymina was looking at him expectantly. “Sorry?”

“I asked if you would be comfortable flying us to Taral-Five. If not, my friend Khoshekh has an underworld contact we—”

“No, no.” He waved his hand. “I’ll do it.”

“I contacted my ship,” Mariamne said. “Since the Jedi want this kept in-house, I asked Kira and T7 to join us. They’ll meet us at the shuttle bay.”

“Why do the Jedi want this kept in-house?” Carth asked.

“Well, we’re assaulting an Imperial fortress deep in Imperial space in order to attack an Imperial prison holding a prisoner of the Sith,” Thaymina said, with a tone that indicated it was another day’s business. “Obviously, if the Empire decides to be angry, the Republic could then write it off as a few rogue Jedi rather than a High Command-sanctioned exercise.”

“That’s … true. Does that happen often?”

“Considering the number of missions like this we’ve been on?” Gav’riel said with a chuckle. “Apparently.”

They found the Imperial shuttle and, waiting for them, another younger, female Jedi and an Astromech. The woman straightened as they approached, brushing ginger hair back behind her ear.

“Another top-secret mission, huh?” she asked. “Where are we headed this time?”

“Taral-Five,” Mariamne said. “I’ll explain on the way. Admiral, this is my Padawan, Kira. Kira, former Admiral Carth Onasi.”

“Hey,” she said as they shook hands. “Thought this was an in-house matter.”

“Apparently I’m considered ‘in-house’ now,” he replied. “Isn’t the first time the Jedi have commandeered me.”

“See, that was your mistake. You let them do it once…”

Carth, despite the feelings eating away at his gut, couldn’t help but chuckle as he eased behind the ship’s controls. “They will _never_ let you go.”

The shuttle rumbled to life, and he quickly familiarized himself with the controls. Things thankfully hadn’t changed too much since the last time he’d flown. “Navicomputer says we’ll be planetside in three hours, so get comfortable.” He looked back into the shuttle as his hands rested on the controls. “Aren’t you still a little young to have a Padawan? Er. No offense.”

“That’s what I keep _telling_ everyone,” Mariamne protested. Kira snorted. “No one _ever_ listens.”

#

Taral V was a muggy, tropical world. Carth landed their purloined shuttle without difficulty but the location of the fortress, a good klick away, meant that he had to accompany the four Jedi and one droid on their assault. It was difficult to get back into the proper mindset for combat — admirals had to remain combat-certified, but he’d only run simulations for some time. But the more patrols they came across, the more his muscles and instincts seemed to remember.

The path through the jungle to the only security point before their target passed quickly, the Imperial patrols unprepared for an assault by any number of skilled Jedi. They found themselves at the security checkpoint within an hour of landing, studying the entrance from behind several downed logs.

“All right.” Mariamne was much stockier than her twin, but shared Revan’s red hair and steel-gray eyes. She was also soft-spoken and quiet, but had clearly inherited at least some of Revan’s strategic finagling. “T7 says that the checkpoint’s security terminal should be in that building over there.”

“Any idea what security is going to look like?” Kira hissed, glancing over at her master. Mariamne shook her head.

“Whatever it is, they’ll get interested in us quickly.” She looked back at Gav’riel. “Would you do the honors?”

The big, tanned Zabrak grinned, getting to his feet. “Absolutely.”

“Then we wait for Gav’s signal, before moving,” Mariamne said. As the Zabrak trotted out towards the security checkpoint, Carth frowned.

“What’s the signal?”

When Gav’riel was about halfway across the distance one of the guards at the checkpoint straightened with a yell, and the group of buildings burst into a rampage of activity. The Zabrak spread his arms. “Come on, can’t we talk about this?”

“That,” Mariamne said, and in an instant she was gone, sprinting across the ground before suddenly disappearing from Point A and reappearing at Point B, in the middle of the Imperial guards. Thaymina sighed as Kira vaulted her log and sprinted after her.

“We’ll try to clear a path,” she said, glancing over at Carth. “And keep them distracted. Can you get T7 to the security terminal? I’d prefer no one get an alert to the fortress.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

The taller Jedi nodded, ducked out of cover, and crushed one of the large Imperial guard droids rushing to the scene with a several-ton boulder. Carth nudged T7, who responded with a quiet, concerned _dwoo_. “Come on,” he muttered, sliding out of cover and jogging towards the raging skirmish.

With most of the attention focused on Gav’riel and Mariamne, it was easy to slip around the edge of the fight and dodge stray blaster bolts. It looked like most of the security garrison had come out upon realizing they were under attack, and only one or two took offense to the non-Jedi and droid sneaking around the back — and they were easy enough to take care of. Once they’d reached the terminal, T7 plugged in with a chirp as Carth kept an eye on the door. The sound of combat was slowly fading, and he sorely hoped that was a _good_ sign. Instead of the alternative.

Oteg’s voice, staticky, came through the terminal. :: _—access to the Empire_ _’s — mications. Do— read?_ ::

“Barely,” Carth replied.

:: _Good — ough. Our — shutting down the Empire_ _’s — grid. —in for — surprise._ _Make your way — the fortress — strike quickly — hard._ ::

“I’ll pass the word along.”

:: _Sending — the fortress. —computer is — compact. You_ _’ll have no trouble carrying it out._ :: T7 chirped triumphantly and spun his head back at Carth as the transmission cleared. :: _I_ _’ll keep quiet from here on, unless it’s an emergency. Oteg out._ ::

The feed cut. “You have the coordinates then?” Carth asked. T7 beeped affirmatively. “Good. Let’s see how they’re doing.”

He headed back out into the muggy air of the planet, immediately missing the forced-air inside the checkpoint that kept it cool. The four Jedi were making their way across the security station, the remains of the checkpoint’s Imperial forces littered behind them. “—always talk _first_ , lightsabers _second_ ,” Thaymina said disapprovingly.

“When was the _last_ time that worked?” Mariamne replied. “Never. This is why Gav has to watch you all the time.”

“Thay is quite capable of handling herself,” Gav interjected. “I’m just a much better battering ram.”

“T7 has the coordinates for the fortress,” Carth interrupted. His attention had started to return, unwillingly, to whatever awaited them at the end of this mission — the feeling that he hoped was and wasn’t right. If they kept moving then he could focus on fighting, not worrying. “Oteg says that they’re still in the dark, but I doubt that’ll last long.”

“We’ll keep moving, then,” Thaymina said. “T7, lead the way.”

The little Astromech beeped happily and rolled towards the other end of the security station. As they headed back into the jungle, Thaymina glanced at him and frowned. “Are you okay, Carth?” 

“I’ll be fine.”

The fortress approach was close to a full-scale assault — a long slog up a massive hill where the only advantage they had was that the Imperials has been blindsided, and were scrambling to respond. By the time the last blast door to the fortress was in front of them, Carth desperately wanted both a shower and a nap.

He was getting too old for this.

T7 sliced through the door in a matter of seconds, opening up a long, dark corridor. Thaymina pointed. “There should be a terminal down there,” she said. “We’ll need to reach that before we go any further.”

The fortress itself was eerily silent, almost as if they’d exhausted its supply of forces. As he trailed after the Jedi, Carth shook his head and eyed the walls suspiciously. He had a very bad feeling about this. T7 plugged into the terminal, located at an intersection where another hallway crossed theirs, and almost immediately a holocomm interface opened. A dark-haired man in Imperial uniform, wearing the insignia of a Grand Moff, stared at them with a vaguely amused stare. Carth glanced at his companions, then back.

:: _You two_ , :: the man said, almost warmly. :: _Appearing on my doorstep. Fortune_ has _always favored me._ ::

“Moff Kilran,” Thaymina replied, echoing his tone. “We must stop meeting like this. People will talk.”

The vaguest hint of an amused smile toyed over the man’s face, stretching at a network of scars covering the side of his head, as he studied the group ahead of him. Carth met his eyes stonily, surprised when there was another vague hint of recognition. :: _That will always be the case, will it not? Sadly, your victory will end here. My fleet is preparing to bombard your position from orbit_. ::

“Of course it is,” Gav’riel muttered.

:: _It was a pleasure catching up,_ :: Kilran continued. :: _But I_ _’m afraid it will be the last time._ ::

The feed suddenly cut out, and the Moff was replaced by Oteg. :: _We monitored that transmission, and my fleet is moving to intercept_. :: The base rocked with a sudden explosion, and the base’s blast doors slammed shut behind them. :: _We will do what we can, but you must hurry. Find that computer, and get out of there!_ ::

T7 chirped and rocked on his feet, and Mariamne nodded. “T7 says it’s this way. Come on.”

Another blast rocked the base as they headed deeper inside, and Carth steadied himself on the wall. “Why is it _always_ an orbital bombardment?” he muttered.

#

The computer was in a laboratory — a small, extremely alien looking, half-holographic pyramid wired into a regular console. The techs working had scattered, ducking behind consoles or chairs, as they approached — the last bit of Imperial guards had been outside their door, so Carth was certain they’d heard the fighting, and being subjected to a sudden bombardment was an experience he sadly remembered well. One man, likely in charge, stood between them and the computer. He bristled angrily, but his hand shook as he held it out.

“ _Butchers_ ,” he spat. “You invaded a sovereign Imperial world, slaughtered dozens to, what, steal our research? You are interfering with a mission of _peace_. We’re charting the Maelstrom Nebula for the good of _all_.

Thaymina held out a hand to them and stepped forward. “We are simply here for the Gree computer,” she said, her voice adopting that vaguely-sympathetic Jedi tone Carth recognized too well. “The deaths are regrettable, but we must complete our mission.”

He scoffed. “When the rest of the galaxy hears about this, the Republic’s evil will be exposed.” He waved his hand. “You will all become synonymous with your government’s campaign of extermination against us.”

“Wonder what the Sacking would say about that,” Mariamne muttered.

Thaymina looked back over her shoulder with a narrow-eyed glare before returning to the man ahead of her.  “If we could have negotiated for the computer, we would have opted for that,” she said. “It is the _only_ thing we want. We have no quarrel with you or your researchers.”

The man’s tone started to change, only slightly. “There are _hundreds_ of _civilian_ vessels exploring the Maelstrom Nebula. The electromagnetic radiation alters safe navigation routes every minute. If we give you the —” The base rocked with another blast, and he winced. “Without the computer’s prices coordinates, thousands of good scientists will be trapped there.”

“Then transmit fresh coordinates to your vessels, allowing them to leave the nebula. After that, the computer is ours.”

“But all our _research_! It will mean nothing without a complete —” He skimmed them and sighed heavily, removing his datapad. “Transmitting coordinates now. The computer is yours. I hope it breaks the first time you use it.”

The facility rocked with another blast, and Thaymina looked up. “Get you and your people out,” she said. “I would hurry.”

The doctor huffed and began waving to his researchers as Gav’riel stepped forward, investigated the console, and carefully removed the computer.

“It’s a lot smaller than I expected,” Kira said.

The Gree know how to build ‘em compact,” he answered, as the facility shook again.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Carth said. “Are we done?”

Thaymina nodded and turned away. “They left through a door down there. It’s probably a back exit. We should —” She looked up and threw out her hand, blocking a chunk of ceiling from falling onto them, and tossed it aside with a huff. “—head that way. Quickly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Had a rough week so I didn't publish yesterday -- but I got hit by the winter storm apocalypse on the East Coast, so I didn't have to work today! Starting Tuesday we'll resume the Tuesday/Friday posting order, so consider this chapter Friday's, just a little late.
> 
> T-2 chapters to everyone's favorite Sinnamon Roll. >:)


	5. An Inescapable Prison

 

Once back on the _Telos_ , and having safely retreated from the engagement with Kilran’s fleet, the computer was installed on the bridge and a course plotted for the Maelstrom Nebula.

“When we reach the nebula,” Oteg was explaining, closely watching the tech as she worked. “We will send you ahead in the shuttle and hang back ourselves to intercept any Imperial response. We’ve been told that a small fleet _does_ protect the facility. It is apparently under the command of our dear friend Moff Kilran.”

“So we can expect to be followed.” Mariamne crossed her arms. “Are we planning to meet up with another Expeditionary?”

“The nature of the Maelstrom makes large fleet action impractical,” Oteg explained. “Sensors are left with a range of several kilometers, and communication is reduced to sublight channels. Trying to organize and maintain large fleet actions in such conditions is nearly impossible — both for Kilran and for us.”

**_She_** _would have found a way,_ Carth thought, firmly crossing his arms as he leaned against a communications terminal. She’d even the score somehow.

“Or so we hope,” he muttered instead. Oteg glanced at him.

“It will be difficult enough to keep our ships from running into one another. Adding more will impede the mission.”

“So will being completely overwhelmed by Kilran’s fleet,” Mariamne replied. “But you’re right. Without more advanced communications arrays, we would cause more damage to our own ships than theirs.”

The facility’s layout was an unknown, as was its blockade force, so they discussed what _could_ happen until they left hyperspace and the stars blurred back to their usual static places, the bright green cloud of the Maelstrom looming just ahead of them.

“Head to your shuttle,” Oteg said. “We will follow you in.”

They were silent as they strapped in and Carth directed the shuttle out of its temporary bay, towards the looming cloud of stardust and electricity ahead of them. He drew a long, slow breath before increasing the throttle, towards the Maelstrom and whatever was hidden within. Anticipation shook his hands as he tried to convince himself that he was wrong — that the likelihood of her being out here was astronomically low, and thinking otherwise would only lead to disappointment. 

Once inside the mass of dust, they could barely see a kilometer out. Constant, slow pings from the fleet behind them were the only indication of their position, giving him a stream of navigable data. _Three degrees port, six pitch. Two degrees starboard, negative-one pitch._ It was slow going, at sublight speeds — perhaps an hour and a half of silence — but eventually a solid mass began to form out of the swirling green dust. The shuttle broke into a small clearing, the nebula surrounding a large, top-heavy station in slow orbit around a dying star. Behind it he could just see a few Imperial vessels, half-obscured in the dust.

This must be it.

“Ping the _Telos_ ,” Carth said quietly, half-glancing at Thaymina in the seat next to him. T7 released a quiet _dwoo_ in the back of the shuttle. “Tell them we’ve found it.”

Thaymina nodded and Carth inched the shuttle closer to the station. Hopefully Kilran didn’t know they were using an Imperial shuttle — he didn’t want to think about getting hit by any capital-ship turbolasers today.

“Oteg says to proceed,” she said, looking back up and out the viewport. “We’re right in front of them.”

Carth nodded silently and pushed the shuttle forward again. “How are we getting abo—”

“Gav?” Thaymina jerked her head at the door, and Carth glanced over his shoulder as Gav’riel leaned down to the comm.

“Imperial Prison 516, this is shuttle 2187,” he said gruffly. “Cargo is supplies. Requesting permission to land.”

There was a momentary pause. :: _Shuttle 2187, landing clearance granted for hangar 5-2-C. Do not leave the hangar bay until permission is granted, you know the drill._ ::

“That never works when I try it,” Carth muttered. Thaymina chuckled.

“I guess we got lucky,” she replied. He guided the shuttle into the directed hangar, releasing a slow breath as he set the shuttle down and killed the engines. Just as they’d lowered the ramp, alarms rang throughout the station, a bright red light flashing above the door.

“That’ll be our fleet,” Mariamne said, as she readied her lightsabers.

Carth followed the twins, Kira, and Gav’riel onto the loading ramp, closing his eyes briefly when his foot touched the deck. That spot in his chest was warm now, almost pulsing, more like how it felt whenever she was nearby. He drew his blasters, steadying his hands as he followed them through the hangar doors.

It _must_ be her.

#

By the time they reached the end of the winding prison, Carth was absolutely convinced he was right.

It was much more than a feeling by then. He _knew_ deep in his gut that a prison like this could only be intended to house one person — one person who had vanished from the Republic three hundred years ago. No Jedi half as powerful had gone missing since, and most had a presumed location where they’d died. But not her.

Not Revan.

Gav’riel opened the blast doors ahead of them with his fist, a firm tap on the mechanism, and they opened into a wide, open chamber and a walkway arched by supports for power tubing. It was just barely out of view, but the tubing stretched from the edge of the walkway to an hourglass-shaped structure to their left, in the very center of the station. The supports glowed dimly with red light, the center a bright beam of blue light with the vaguest hint of a humanoid form inside it.

More pressing, to his Jedi companions, was the large entourage behind a familiar man wearing the insignia of an Imperial Grand Moff. Kilran himself was unimpressive in person, standing perhaps at Carth’s height with the paunchy look of a someone unaccustomed to strenuous combat. He was currently in a terse discussion with the hologram of a broad-shouldered, angry-looking man in a costume that screamed Sith, wearing a prosthetic on the bottom of his face and jaw.

The Malak look never went out of style, then.

“Ah, here they are.” Kilran turned to them, casting a single glance back at the hologram. “My lord, I promised to rid you of this nuisance. This embarrassment ends here.”

“Malgus,” Thaymina murmured, from her position at Carth’s left. “Not a Dark Council member, but easily one of the biggest Sith annoyances short of the Emperor himself.”

Yeah, Carth thought, he had a face that needed to be shot repeatedly.

“Securing the Emperor’s prisoner is your only priority,” Malgus ordered gruffly. “Deal with your vendetta another time.”

“I’m touched you think there will _be_ another time, Malgus,” Mariamne interrupted, her soft voice producing a level of condescension Carth hadn’t heard since Revan herself. Kilran released an irritated huff.

Carth again tried for a better look at what had to be the main cell, the target of their rescue mission, in the center of the chamber. As he squinted, he could make out just the barest flash of red, and he felt that tug in his chest pull harder. He tightened his grip on his blasters.

“There is no time like the present, my lord,” Kilran replied.

“It’s an awful lot of trouble to go through for one prisoner,” Thaymina said.

“You don’t even know why you’re here.” Kilran’s eyes gleamed with an emotion somewhere between awe and the look a pet cat gets when it swallows a pet bird. “Fascinating.” Carth narrowed his eyes as the Moff looked towards him. “Your _antique_ suspects. Perhaps you should ask him.”

Carth gripped his blasters until the shaking in his hands ceased, deciding he didn’t want to know how the Empire knew of him _personally_. “Is it her?” he demanded. The corners of Kilran’s mouth twitched. “Tell me, you son of a bitch.”

“Oh, this will be _wonderful_ ,” Kilran murmured.

“Perhaps it is better for _most_ to die ignorant.” Malgus turned back to Kilran. Carth glared at him, blasters shaking in his hands again. “The Empire salutes you, Grand Moff Kilran. Remember your orders, and I leave you to reclaim your honor.”

#

Kilran and his men were barely dead before Carth sprinted up the walkway, eyes locked on the mechanism at the center of the vast chamber. He’d tried to keep from running, but as soon as he got closer, his eyes overruled his caution.

It _was_ her. Revan. _His_ Revan. He skidded to a stop and stared upwards, heart pounding so forcefully he shook .

She hung in the beam of blue light weightlessly, arms floating at her sides and feet dangling limply in the air. Her vivid red hair and enormous robes drifted around her, like she was underwater. Her eyes and lips were closed, chin lolled against her chest, and he dearly hoped she was just asleep — and not the alternative.

He needed to get her down.

“Force,” Thaymina breathed as the others caught up with him. Carth didn’t move, eyes still locked on the woman in front of him. “T7. Hack this console. Get her down.”

T7 chirped and nudged past him, plugging into the console. “Is she alive?” he asked, tearing his eyes away to look at Thaymina. She shook her head.

“I think so. It’s hard to tell.”

“Is that … _her_?” Mariamne asked as she took a half-step closer to the console.

“Smaller than I expected,” Gav’riel said. Carth nearly managed a half-relieved, half-sincere laugh that died as a croak in his throat.

T7 chirruped, rolling backwards from the console. The blue light flickered, starting to fade, and the fact that she’d fall nearly six feet struck him. Carth lurched forward, grabbing one of the upright bars at the base of the enormous structure, and hauled himself onto the machine. The light flickered again and disappeared, and he lunged to catch her as she dropped. He hooked his arm under her knees, looking her over for injury — she was dangerously light, skin pallid and thin.

She also wasn’t breathing.

Carth carefully set her down, brushing dry red hair away from her eyes. Thaymina knelt across from him, resting her hand on his as he started to check for injuries on Revan’s small form.

“I’m a healer,” she said, gently moving his hand away. “Let me.”

Carth hovered nervously, watching as she gently began to examine Revan’s still form. He sat back, hard, when she took a large, gasping breath, followed by another. Thaymina pulled back when Revan flung her arm out, gasping for air as she pushed herself halfway up. Finally her eyes, still their stormy gray, shot open and she lurched to her feet, back to the console that had controlled her prison. Carth pushed himself to his feet, breath catching in his throat as she tapped away, muttering a progressively more vehement strain of obscenities in at least sixteen different languages.

“Fan _tastic_ ,” she finally grumbled as her shoulders slumped, and Revan turned back. She crossed her arms and rested her hips heavily against the console behind her. “Well. How did you lot find me out here in the middle of …” She looked around. “Wherever the hell we are?”

“We heard you,” Thaymina said. “In the Force. Are you … are you really Revan?”

She frowned, pressing her lips into a thin line as she studied the four Jedi. When her gaze settled on Carth, his heart raced again — she drew a sharp breath, her eyes widening for the briefest moment before she closed them. Revan drew another deep breath in through her nose and returned her eyes to the willowy Jedi in front of her.

“Revanna Galon, the Revanchist, Darth Revan, the Prodigal Knight, Hero of the Star Forge, ‘that Jedi bitch,’ whatever makes you feel better,” she said, with a sharp nod. Carth’s heart tapped out another rough staccato. “You _heard_ me?”

“Yes,” Thay answered. “What you were saying … it sounded like you desperately needed help.”

“Well.” Revan sighed. “While I appreciate no longer being the Emperor’s favorite punching bag, I was _attempting_ to keep him from making the galaxy’s tenuous peace _worse_. Hopefully removing me from stasis will not change that, but …” She looked up. “We shouldn’t linger.”

“No,” Mariamne agreed. “Gav, Kira, we’ll secure a shuttle.”

The three Jedi headed back down the catwalks. Thaymina and Revan watched them go, but Carth couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.

She looked _so_ tired.

“How were _you_ keeping the Emperor from —”

“When he put me into this contraption three hundred years ago, he created a neural link with my mind.” Revan turned back to the console and input a command, and the side of the machine popped out. “It allowed him to go through my head at whim, looking for the information he wanted. Also, to make sure no one else poses the same threat to him that I do. Little things like that.” She reached in and drew out a pair of thin lightsaber hilts — Carth recognized them, the same ones she’d used during the war — and clipped them to her belt. She followed with a metal cube about the size of both her hands, and frowned. “Hopefully I can use my considerable knowledge to aid the Republic. The Emperor cannot be allowed to continue. He is up to something … what, I’m not sure. But now that I’m free, he’ll move ahead quickly. Or…” She tapped the cube with a finger as she turned back.

“Or he’ll try to kill me. Probably the latter. Either way, once he’s aware that most of his link to my mind has been broken, he’ll be turning the fleet towards here. I’m sure you are all very capable, but I would prefer to avoid first-hand combat until the room stops spinning. Any further questions will have to wait.”

“That’s it?” Carth finally said. Revan drew another sharp breath, staring down at the box in her hands. “You’re not even going to say anything to me?”

She released a slow stream of air, a brief flash of pain contorting her features. “I understand I’m going to have side effects from the process used on me, if I am correct,” she replied quietly, “but I will not acknowledge a hallucination. Regardless of what I _want_ to believe, it has been three hundred years, and I know you couldn’t have survived.”

Carth blinked a couple times as Thaymina looked between them. He stepped forward, and Revan stepped back against the console.

“I’m … I’m not a hallucination, gorgeous.”

“Don’t,” she whispered, her voice breaking. The tone cut into his chest, nearly making him short of breath. “Please, anything but _that_.”

“Revan,” Thaymina finally interrupted. She glanced over her shoulder, back down at the catwalk. “If you’re speaking to Carth … I can see him. He _is_ here.”

She looked at the willowy Jedi, then back to Carth, and shook her head. “No. It isn’t possible.”

He closed the distance between them, gently resting his hands on her shoulders. Revan almost flinched away, a weak gasp parting her lips as she looked up. The knife in his heart twisted at the desperate look she gave him — disbelief pleading to be wrong. Carth pulled his hand up and cupped the side of her face, swallowing as her shoulders sagged and she closed her eyes.

“I …” He searched her face. A hallucination? How could he prove he wasn’t, if this wasn’t enough? Carth darted his tongue out to wet his lips. “So, uh… right after we’d moved in together—” He spotted Thaymina retreating down the catwalks out of the corner of his eye, “— I invited Dustil over for dinner, and you wanted to … you tried to cook.” The knife in his chest receded a bit when she nearly laughed, shoulders lurching under his hand. “I found you sopping wet in our kitchen from the sprinklers, holding a spoon. You looked _so_ miserable, and all I could think…”

He shook his head, and closed the last distance between their lips. She barely tasted like he remembered, too sharp, like fire and blood and resignation. But Revan sobbed into him, one arm snaking around his neck, and he pretended not to notice.

“And T3 told you I hit him with a spoon,” she whispered against his lips. “And you laughed for an hour.”

Carth kissed her again, harder this time, trying vainly to tell her what he couldn’t say. That he’d been terrified that his gamble hadn’t paid off, angry that she’d left, angry that she’d never come back, desperate to know she was alive …

“How?” she finally whispered, pulling away from him. He half-laughed and looked away.

“I… froze myself in carbonite,” he said sheepishly. Revan stared at him, shaking her head.

“Oh _gods_ ,” she said. “You _ass_.”

“Just got an alert over the comms,” Thaymina called. They tore apart, looking down the catwalks. “The fleet’s cut off their pursuit and are heading in this direction. We need to leave.”

T7 chirped behind them and rolled ahead, past Thaymina. Revan stared after the droid.

“Who’s that?”

“T7.”

“I want one.”

He laughed, taking her hand and twining their fingers together.  “Let’s get you out of here, gorgeous.”


	6. That Old, Familiar Feeling

Carth climbed behind the controls of Moff Kilran's personal shuttle, idling in a nearby hanger. Revan glanced back at the Jedi climbing into the rear jump seats and slid into the cockpit, settling down in the copilot's seat next to him. He glanced over as he guided the ship upwards, unable to stop the warm ache throughout the bottom of his chest.

The green glow of the Maelstrom greeted them as the hangar doors opened. "Oteg sent us coordinates from the Gree computer," Mariamne called. Carth's hand hovered over the nav panel, entering as she listed them, and he pushed the shuttle out.

"Looks like we'll rendezvous with the fleet in two hours, provided we don't get caught by the Imperials."

"If we travel underneath the fleet's flightpath, we'll escape notice," Revan said quietly. "Not sure how your computer works, but Imperial vessels will ignore a shuttle flying their colors."

"You're sure?"

She shifted in her seat, tucking her legs against her chest. "Vaguely."

They flew in silence, as if expecting the Imperial fleet closing in on them to overhear. Finally Revan let out an appreciative whistle. "He did make this place hard to find, didn't he?" She swiveled in her seat, looking back through the door. "I've assumed you're all Jedi?"

They all looked at Thaymina, who nodded. "Yes. Master Oteg is the one who first heard you in the Force, he sent us. We couldn't tell who it was, though — I had no idea we would find _you_ on the prison."

"So was this Council-sanctioned?"

"Sort of. Grand Master Shan asked us to assist him."

Revan looked back at Carth, who nodded. "Grand Master _Shan_ , eh?"

"Yeah."

"Excellent." She returned her attention to Thaymina. "You must be fairly high up in the Order if you got saddled with a mission like this."

"Judging by the number of misadventures we go on, I'm beginning to wonder," Gav'riel said.

"As it is, I'd like to know who broke me out of my cozy little mind prison."

"Master Thaymina Galon," Thaymina said, motioning to herself. Carth glanced over as Revan looked back at him. "My sister, Knight Mariamne Galon, and our companions, Knight Gav'riel, Padawan Kira Carson, and T7-01."

"Galon is a lousy surname to be saddled with. I apologize."

"It certainly has its moments," Mariamne replied. Revan settled back in her seat.

"What's it like out there?" she asked. "I got most of my news through _himself_ , and he was not the most forthcoming of individuals." Revan leaned her head back on the seat. "I'd gathered that he had invaded the Republic and managed to push for the Treaty of Coruscant with my … limited influence … but I doubt it will hold. Not when he bombed the hell out of Coruscant in the process." She rubbed the side of her face as Carth glanced over. "He enjoyed rubbing my face in that."

"The peace will break, likely sooner rather than later," Thaymina said. "How were you able to convince him of anything, if you were a prisoner?"

"Lying, typically. I had a few very good ones. I let him into my memories of Kashyyyk at one point and told him there was a battalion of Wookiee Jedi being trained in secret. I'm still surprised that worked." Carth chuckled. She shifted and yawned. "Anyway, yeah. I tried to convince him the Republic and the Jedi were holding enormous forces in reserve, ready to attack the Empire. He would have to dedicate time and resources — sometimes years — to proving me wrong. Even when he was _certain_ that I was."

They were quiet, until Thaymina said, "he's afraid."

"In a way. He's a man who wants immortality and unfettered power — the idea of losing his life, or losing his power, is the only thing that gives him pause. That's why …" She yawned again. "That's why understanding your enemy is important. People always seem to forget that."

"If you're that tired, maybe you should sleep it off," Carth said.

"I've been sleeping in one form or another for three centuries, I don't think I—" She was interrupted by another enormous yawn, and glared back at Carth's smug grin. "Stop that."

"Seriously, beautiful, sleep it off. You'll have more than enough time to tell the kids how it's done later."

She nestled deeper into the seat, robes billowing out in a sea of black. "Fine. Wake me up if something happens."

"You got it."

"You know," Gav'riel said quietly in the back, after a few moments of silence. "She's not what I expected. Even after listening to you, Thay."

The pile of fabric to Carth's right snorted. He chuckled. "I think the Council is in for a rude awakening," he said.

#

They evaded the Imperial fleet easily, flying below them and just out-of-range of their scanners in the uncooperative nebula. By the time they rendezvoused with the _Telos_ , Revan had been asleep for nearly an hour and a half. After landing the shuttle back on the _Telos_ , and as the others were unstrapping in the back, Carth reached out to shake the bundle of cloth.

"Grmphlmbrrrrrr," it replied.

"C'mon, Anna."

Revan raised her head, let her eyes focus, and grinned tiredly at him. "Oh. Are we there?"

"We just landed."

She sighed and stretched, uncurling herself from the seat. "How long was I asleep?"

"About an hour and a half."

"That long?"

Carth's lips drew into a thin line. "You're that tired?"

"Apparently." He stood, and she held out her hand. Carth pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arm around her. "I can walk on my own, you know."

"I know," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. She shook her head but let him guide her out of the shuttle, into the hangar.

Revan tried to ignore the off-duty soldiers peering in from the hangar's control deck, or the on-duty personnel in the hanger itself feigning activity. She turned the metal cube in her hands over again with a small frown as Carth guided her further from the shuttle, hand firmly on her back. The Jedi that had rescued her were nearby, talking to —

"Is that Vandar? I thought he was dead."

"It's not."

The diminutive green alien was standing on a small hoverpad, floating at about Mariamne's eye level. He spotted them and steered away from the conversation. "I must say, when I was first aware of your presence, I did not actually expect it to be _you_ ," he said excitedly. "They are not lying, are they? You are _actually_ Revan."

"I see my reputation precedes me," she replied, holding out her hand. "Revanna Galon, or, whatever you feel most comfortable calling me."

"This is _most_ fortuitous timing," he said. "I am Master Oteg, currently assisting with Jedi Intelligence and the SIS. We will need to debrief you, of course, and our medics will—"

"I understand." Revan held up the hand not currently cradling the metal cube to her chest. "First, though, I desperately need a 'fresher and a change of clothes. Can that be arranged before any debriefs?"

"Of course, we can—"

"If it's all right with everyone," Carth interrupted. "Anna, I have one of the staterooms. You can use mine."

She nodded, and looked back at Oteg. "Oh, yeah. That works."

Oteg seemed conflicted for a moment, then nodded. "Very well, whatever works best. Let me know when you have recovered."

"Of course." She looked back up at Carth. "Lead the way."

Carth nodded and steered her for the hangar exit, past a sizable crowd of superficially-working soldiers and into the _Telos_ ' corridors. His hand was heavy on her back, and she was somewhat thankful for it. She recognized the tension in her shoulders as an unspoken fear that she would be jolted out of this at any time, find that she was still in her never-ending hell.

He finally stopped at one door several decks up from the hangars. It opened into a moderately-sized room with the door to the fresher in one corner, opposite a bed partially hidden by a partition. Closer to the entrance was a desk and chair, and a large footlocker. Comfortable but not extravagant — what she'd come to expect from a Republic capital ship. The door slid closed behind them and she moved away from him quickly, setting her lightsabers and the metal cube on the room's desk.

Carth nodded to it. "What is it?"

Revan sighed, pausing before she shed the voluminous layer of robes she was wearing, leaving her in a tighter, dark jumpsuit. "T3's memory core and personality matrix."

"…oh. What happened?"

"The Emperor disintegrated him," she said, keeping her eyes down as she toed off her boots. "It was … unpleasant."

"He left the core?"

"Information. On me, the Republic, whatever. I don't know if he ever got access to it. I hope not." She ducked her head lower. "You must be terribly angry with me."

Carth sighed and stepped forward, resting his hand on her arm. "I was. I mean, I still am, a little. You left us. Both of us. But after … I heard what they heard, when Oteg sent us off to find you. I can't imagine what you've been through."

Revan turned into him, nestling into his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, tucking her under his chin and closing his eyes.

"What happened to her?" she asked, quietly.

"Take a guess. She started doing things with the Force before you'd even left. I kept it under wraps but … eventually she levitated a sofa in front of someone. I think the Jedi were just waiting for it. Without you, or Jolee, or Juhani …"

She sighed and buried herself closer to him.

"I always meant to come back," she said. "I just needed answers, I couldn't stop remembering. I thought if I could find out, I'd stop the nightmares. But when I found out about the Emperor, what he can do, I had to stop him, Carth. And I failed. I killed the body he was using, but it didn't stop him. And then all I could think about in stasis was how I'd never see either of you again, and…"

He murmured something and kissed the top of her head, tightening his arms. "Just answer me one thing, gorgeous," he said. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Yes."

"Was it worth it?"

She shook her head. "I don't know yet."

"Then that's that." He rested his chin on her head again and they were quiet for a few minutes, calmly nestled in each others' arms. Finally Revan drew back a little, tilting her head.

"Tell me you're at least a little angry. I'd hate for us to not bicker about this at _all_."

Carth chuckled, tilting her head up and kissing her. "We'll start eventually."

"Good." She pulled back further, taking his hands in her own. "Carth, there's one other thing."

"Yeah?"

"When I was in stasis … the Emperor needed everything I knew. He undid what the Jedi did. I-I have all my memories back. I don't know if that's a problem."

Carth shook his head. "Just tell me. Telos."

"I needed the fields. I was called away and told Malak to take it with ground action. When I came back and saw what he'd done I took both him and Karath to task for it." She looked away, scratching her nose. "Malak pulled his lightsaber, said I was getting soft, challenged me for my position. That's how he lost his jaw."

"What about everything else?"

She ducked her head. "When we came out here, we tried to kill the Emperor. He captured us, tortured us, sent us out for the Star Forge. He can dominate minds, Carth, but he can't mine. I'm not sure why. He drove Malak to the brink of insanity but … well, I did what I did best."

"You plotted against him."

"I took the Star Forge for my own. I was going to turn the Republic around, by force if I had to, and destroy everything he'd built for what he did to me. I thought it was the only way to save it." She lowered her head again. "I was only twenty-three. The things he'd done to me … I was so angry. I was so angry and I nearly ruined everything."

Carth pulled her back into him, and she followed willingly. "But you also put everything back together," he said quietly. "I wouldn't have frozen myself in carbonite otherwise."

"We're going to have to talk about how stupid that was sometime," she muttered into his chest. He laughed.

"I'm just glad we found you."

"So am I." Revan started to pull back again but Carth twined their fingers together, resting his forehead on hers. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and she closed her eyes.

"Leaving so soon?" he murmured. "After so long?"

"I _really_ want a shower, flyboy. It's been three hundred years."

"You're just gonna shut me down like that after _centuries_?"

"I wouldn't think you'd appreciate your girlfriend _smelling_ like three hundred years, would you?"

"Mm. I'd rather just _appreciate_ her."

She smirked and tilted her head enough to kiss him. Carth responded eagerly, threading his fingers through her hair. To be fair, she was right. She could _certainly_ use a shower.

"You can do that later. When I'm _clean._ " Revan pulled away. "Can you get someone to find a spare uniform? I'd really like to get out of this."

"I'll see what I can do."

She nodded and started back for the door as he turned for the comm. It slid closed behind her as someone picked up, and Carth relayed her request. After hanging up, he gently picked up T3's memory core and turned it over in his hands with a deepening frown. He'd known the droid had disappeared, sometime after the Exile had returned to known space, but not to where — but Revan worked miracles with droids. If anyone could rebuild him, she could.

Someone knocked and he set the memory core down, opening the door to find Thaymina waiting for him. "Carth," she said warmly, handing him a stack of what looked like nondescript Jedi robes. "I wanted to check on Revan. How is she?"

Carth glanced over his shoulder, back towards the fresher. "I think she's shaken," he said as he looked back. "And disoriented. But she'll be fine. Where are we going? She would ask."

"Master Oteg has to check in with Command. You, Revan, and Mariamne will leave in her ship for Tython as we get closer. Gav and I will be continuing on to Coruscant. It should be another thirty hours, all-told."

"Thanks."

"Of course." Thaymina inclined her head. "Let me know if either of you need anything else."

Carth nodded, and Thaymina drifted back down the corridor. He stepped back in and over to the fresher, hand hovering over the lock.

She was singing.

He'd heard her sing a couple times, usually when she thought no one was around. She'd never told him why it made her self-conscious — she had a good voice, smooth and husky like some of the more popular singers so many years ago. At first, she'd said something about it feeling weird. Later, she told him she never felt up to it.

He took a breath and knocked and, as he suspected, she stopped immediately. "Where do you want your clothes?"

"Right in on the floor is fine." He slid the door open, dropped them in, and started to close it, knowing that too long might tempt him to join her. "Thanks, flyboy."

He chuckled as he let the door close and began to take off his gear, setting his blasters on the table next to her lightsabers and peeling off his gloves. When there was no sign of her returning shortly, he grabbed the pile of black fabric and folded it into something more manageable, setting it neatly on the desk chair. For once, her leaving her things everywhere didn't bother him — the fact that she was there to _leave_ her things everywhere was far more important.

Nearly an hour later, as he was checking the Holonet to see if the Empire had started complaining, the fresher door slid open. Revan stepped out, hair damp and hanging down her back. She dumped her jumpsuit on the floor just outside the door and ran a hand self-consciously over the plain brown Jedi robe Thaymina had found for her. It was slightly too big, hanging limp and boxy off her shoulders. Carth wordlessly handed her the belt from the robes she'd worn in stasis, and she lashed it around her waist.

"Thanks," she said. "I think these belonged to a Cathar. Or someone with a cat."

"Why?"

"They're covered in fur." Carth chuckled and rested his hand on her waist, and she stepped into him. "Where were we, flyboy?" Revan asked as she slid her hand from his chest to his neck.

"Here, I think," he murmured as he closed the distance to her lips. She sighed happily, curling her hand in his hair as he pulled her impossibly closer. There was a type of longing between them, Carth's the unspoken fear that he'd taken drastic measures for nothing, and Revan's the belief that she had lost him to the ages. He stepped her backwards, and she pulled him after her as she sank down onto the bed.

He dragged his lips to her neck and she leaned her head back. She tugged his shirt from his waistband, hands gently searching under it, tracing out the lines in his chest. Carth sought her lips again, groaning into her as she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him against her; something like electric, long forgotten, skittered up their spines.

"Were you awake?" he whispered into her. She opened her eyes.

"Hm?"

"Were you awake? All those years?"

Revan cupped his jaw with her hands, rubbing her thumbs along his cheeks. "Does it matter?"

"Yes."

She sighed. "I lived a thousand lifetimes with both of you. They got so real that …" She met his eyes. "Even now, I'm not sure this is real."

"It's real," he assured her.

"By about year two-ninety, so was the time I single-handedly restored Telos using a horde of Wookiee Jedi," she said, her lips twisting into a smirk. Carth leaned the last few centimeters to her lips, kissing her languidly.

"I promise, this is real," he murmured. "We're both here. And I'll never let you go again."


	7. A Heart to Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting. No great excuse, I just got distracted by Crusader Kings again.

 

Revan eventually caved to his demand that she get some sleep, begged him to stay until she woke up, and fell into a slumber reminiscent of the dead on his chest. Carth lounged around for some time, reading news reports, laughing quietly at the inaccuracies in several historical military documentaries about the Mandalorian Wars, and trying to calm the torrent of relief tinged with anger coursing through him. Eventually, someone called him up to the bridge several hours after Revan had fallen asleep. He slipped out of bed — thankfully, she didn't awaken — pulled on his boots, and headed out the door, tucking his shirt back into his waistband. He looked back as he closed the door, feeling the briefest pang of conflict as Revan curled around a pillow.

As he walked onto the _Telos_ _'_ cavernous bridge, hyperspace still streaking by the viewports, he was surprised to see the group from Maelstrom at the front with Oteg and the ship's captain. Thaymina stood still, arms crossed over her chest; Mariamne and Gav'riel paced or shifted on their feet, hands uneasily resting near weapons.

"What's wrong?" Carth asked.

"There's an Imperial fleet following us," Thaymina said.

"We knew they would not have be pleased when we took Revan," Oteg said. "To no surprise, the fleet is lead by the _Valor_."

"The _Valor_ is Malgus' ship," Thaymina explained. Carth nodded. Apart from the glance he'd gotten on the prison, his name had come up a few times in his recent holonet searches — one of the higher-ranking Sith, with a lot of campaigns and responsibilities under his belt, and the person largely responsible for the destruction of the Temple during the Sacking of Coruscant.

"Yeah."

"He isn't known for talking, either," Mariamne interjected.

"You were a successful fleet admiral," Thaymina said. "I thought you may want to lend your expertise, should things get … out of hand."

He frowned. Thaymina was overstating his previous experience, but — "Alright. Give me the makeup of the fleets."

Further back in the ship, Revan startled awake. For a moment she panicked, recognizing that she was alone in a strange place, her mind whirling into action. She stared blankly at the wall before she remembered she was on a Republic vessel, safe, with Carth nearby.

Or, he _should_ be nearby. She grumbled, climbing out of bed, straightening her robes, and running her hand through her hair. She tried to silence her brain's assertion that this was _proof_ he was a hallucination, and made certain to touch the blasters on the table next to her lightsabers until she'd silenced that lying scumbag of an internal monologue.

Revan stepped into the corridor, holding a coat tight around her shoulders. Since leaving stasis, she'd been freezing. Either stasis had confused her body's systems, or the Republic had cut corners on temperature regulation. She bet it was the former. Cold soldiers weren't as lively as warm ones.

The ship was bustling with activity, but an ensign — she thought, provided the Republic hadn't changed their insignia since the Jedi Civil War — stumbled to a wide-eyed stop in front of her and saluted. She pursed her lips and nodded. She was getting salutes now? That was a surprise. She would have expected shock-cuffs long before salutes.

"Can I-I help you, ma'am— er, M-Master Jedi?"

Revan had forgotten how fast scuttlebutt spread through warships. "Er …" She tugged her borrowed coat tighter. "Have you seen Onasi?"

"I think he was called to the bridge, m-ma'am." Another chink in that scumbag monologue, then. Good.

"Oh. Are we on alert?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thanks."

"Do you know where to—"

"I've served on my fair share of vessels, but thank you." He saluted again and trotted by, and she was absolutely certain he'd edged closer to the wall. She pursed her lips harder and started towards the bridge. It was the same as she remembered, long and open, with neat lines of consoles and stations. Each was manned — typically in flight half would be, so this seemed to support the ensign's assertion that they were on full alert. She spotted Carth first, up front, and picked her way through the bridge to join him.

"— hailed." Judging by his insignia, the speaker was the ship's captain. Oteg waved his hand as Revan drew to a stop behind the group, and someone at the holoterminal nodded and pressed several buttons. The blue beam flickered to life, soon forming into a tall and broad human male in a respirator mask, eyes set in a permanent glower. She frowned.

The Malak look still hadn't gone out of style, then.

:: _Republic ship_ _Telos_ , :: he said, voice a low growl. :: _You recently raided a high security prison in the Maelstrom Nebula. You are to stand down and return this fugitive, or face repercussions_. ::

"Should we not?" Oteg replied simply. Malgus' eyes narrowed.

:: _We have a fleet stationed on the Republic border. Your ship will be removed from hyperspace, boarded, and this individual will be taken into custody_ … _personally_. :: Revan frowned harder when she realized Malgus was staring at her.

"And we are more than capable of —" Oteg began.

"How many capital ships would it take to pull a _Valour_ -class ship from hyperspace?" Revan interrupted loudly, making them jump. Malgus' eyes narrowed impossibly further. "You could try, but you'd latch onto one of our fleet vessels. Not _effective_ for pulling _us_ from hyperspace, is it?" Her legs trembled under her, but she frowned and ignored it. "And how many ships are in this fleet you have waiting for us?"

:: _Is there a point to this?_ :: Malgus growled.

"Approximately the number _we_ have, considering most of the fleet is skulking about elsewhere in Imperial space," she continued. "That's not the crushing power you're insinuating, Malgus. Perhaps if you spent more time planning and less time glowering, you'd've successfully destroyed the Republic by now. Here's some advice: next time threaten someone, at least make it _convincing_."

Malgus was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was even lower, more threatening. :: _You are insignificant, Revan. A mutation. The only thing that gave you notice, that made you special, was_ chance _._ ::

She tugged her coat closer and took a step forward, and Carth gently grabbed her shoulder. "Tell your master," she growled. "Next time, his party trick won't save him." The Sith huffed and motioned with his hand, and the feed cut. Revan echoed his huff as her leg caved at the knee, and Carth caught her as she stumbled.

"I'll get a medical team up here," Thaymina said, and Revan waved her hand.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, just wobbly."

"Either way, Master Shan is interested in speaking with you immediately, and I will not have you exhaust yourself before we arrive on Tython," she chided. Revan grumbled, but didn't argue as Carth helped her to one of the command chairs.

"You're sure you're fine?" he asked, brow creasing. She nodded, resting her hand on his.

"I'm just cold," she answered quietly. "And I'm not exactly _used_ to standing." He nodded, but the deepening furrow in his brow belied any thought that she might have reassured him. He pulled off his jacket and added it to the one already wrapped around her shoulders.

When a team with a hoverchair in tow jogged onto the bridge, she started to voice another complaint that was shut down in a surprise alliance of Carth, Oteg, and Thaymina. The former helped her into the chair and followed the team out, while the other two stayed behind. Revan complained the entire way.

Fortunately, the medical bay was mostly empty, so the team diverting to her meant they weren't abandoning other patients. Carth helped her to a cot, and she settled down and frowned stormily. They initially tried to shoo him away, but Revan kept a firm grip on his hand and demanded that he stay, or that she return to his room to recover on her own. When she refused to cooperate, they gave in. What followed was a barrage of questions — medical history, itself a fun discussion, then current symptoms. How was she put in stasis? (It didn't matter, but tech, the Force, and Sith alchemy.) Did she know what long-term effects to expect? (No.) How did long-term exposure to Sith alchemy affect the body? (No idea.) Were there any Republic experts on it they could contact? (Probably not.) Eventually they took several blood samples and scans and headed off, leaving them alone. Revan kicked her feet as Carth sat down next to her, staring after the medics. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, and smiled weakly as he wrapped his arm around her.

"I promise I'm fine," she comforted. "I'm just exhausted. Mentally. Trying to adjust to dealing with actual people again, and just … the actual act of being _awake_."

"I believe you." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm just worried."

"You're always worried."

"I'm not _always_ worried."

"Just _usually_ worried." Carth huffed and she half-grinned. "Also, don't think I didn't notice that you left me."

"I got called up to the bridge."

"I know." She nestled closer to him. "I'm just saying, though."

Mariamne took that moment to head through the medbay doors, spotting them and hurrying over. "We'll be meeting a nearby Expeditionary," she said. "They'll escort us into the Core Worlds. Malgus' fleet is similar to ours — it should be enough to give us an edge if he has any surprises for us."

They both nodded. "Dropping out of hyperspace to join the fleet will expose us to Malgus' —" Revan started. Mariamne nodded.

"It's a definite risk, yes. It'll take a minute to reorganize. Oteg is certain we'll be fine. Even so…" She sighed and leaned back on the cot opposite them. "I'm supposed to stay down here in case we're boarded, and Thaymina and Gav'riel are posed to intercept. If we are, we'll head back up to the bridge and pool our strength there." I've been …" Mariamne rubbed a long scar on her chin. "… looking forward to seeing Malgus. Face-to-face."

"You and me both," Carth muttered.

"By the way, I'm not as big into the family history as my sister is," she said. "But it is a great honor to meet you. Both of you, really. Some of the techniques I learned date back to things you developed."

Revan replied with a sideways grin. "I'm glad at least one of our descendants developed a habit of playing with dangerous weapons in highly illogical ways."

Carth shook his head, and Mariamne echoed her grin. "It was going to come back up, I suppose." The intercom above them intoned, in a vaguely discomforting female voice, _Leaving hyperspace. Remain at alert level mauve._

The chief medical officer returned, handing Revan a datapad. "Everything appears fine," he said. "Apart from these abnormal brain scans—"

She looked at the particular one. "No, those are actually normal for me."

"In that case, everything appears to be fine. You have some surprisingly minor muscle atrophy, some nutritional and electrolyte imbalances. All over, unexpectedly minor. Just take it easy for a few days, make sure you get enough rest and follow the nutritional plan in there, and you should be fine."

"Sure," Revan said, handing the datapad to Carth. "I'll see what I can do."

#

Fortunately, they avoided Malgus' fleet, supporting Revan's claims that the Sith had been bluffing. After a few more hours, the medical bay released her and she and Carth made their way back to his stateroom, where she promptly staggered back to the bed and fell back asleep.

By the time she woke up several hours later, Carth was sitting at the desk skimming a datapad with a tray of food cooling at his elbow. She stretched and he looked up, appearing at her bedside with the tray.

"Grabbed this from the mess," he said, setting it down on her lap. "It's what the medbay said you needed."

She crinkled her nose. "Well. I suppose it's better than what I ate the last three hundred years." Carth sighed and settled down on the edge of the bed as she picked up her spoon. "Sorry."

"No, it's …" He sighed again. "Can we talk?"

"Yeah." Revan frowned, lowering the spoon back to the tray. "You're still angry. I'm not surprised. You have every right to be."

"Well, I'm glad we're agreeing on that," Carth muttered. "It's not … no matter how mad I am, I'm not going anywhere, gorgeous. I made that decision a long time ago. I just didn't know what to think, and now I'm — I don't know."

"You're angry because I left," she said simply. "I'd be worried if you weren't. And I know there's no way to make it up to you — but I promise, Carth, I always intended to come back. I didn't expect to be gone for so long. I thought it'd be a couple months, no more."

"I know you were having nightmares, but why was that so much more important than _us_? Our _child_?"

She was quiet for a while, staring down at her food. Carth sighed and looked away. "I was afraid," she finally said, quietly, and he looked back. "I thought there was something terrible I'd forgetten. The more I looked in the Archives, the more it looked like the Sith might be behind it, and I was … if I'd run into them, what if they knew what'd happened? What if they came after me, and found the two of you? When I found Nathema, I realized it was so much more serious than that. I couldn't come back, not until I'd dealt with the Emperor."

"Nathema?"

"It …" She drew a deep breath. Even thinking about it, this far removed, made a chill run down her spine. "It's a planet wiped clean of the Force."

"Like Katarr?"

"Probably worse." Carth furrowed his brow. "The Emperor … you know the Great Hyperspace War, with Naga Sadow and Freedon Nadd?"

"Yeah."

"The Emperor was given his title by Naga Sadow — _Lord Vitiate_ — but stayed out of the war. When they were defeated, he drew the remnants of the Empire to his homeworld. He dominated a group of Sith and performed a ritual that wiped the world clean of the Force."

"His own homeworld?" She nodded. "Why?"

"So he could have immortality. He absorbed the Force from the world, extending his lifespan indefinitely and giving him a hell of a lot of power."

"He's — _what_?"

"Yeah. Sort of. That's the worst part. He'll have to repeat the ritual eventually, but I don't know when." She wet her lips. "I don't know that I can … it's not really something I can describe. Can I — Can I show you?"

Carth frowned, but nodded. Revan hesitantly set her hand on his arm, and closed her eyes. His sight blurred, and the stateroom around them disappeared, replaced by a vast, empty plain covered in piles of black ash that eddied around his ankles. A few skeletal structures loomed in the distance, all gray, just like the dust and dirt — even the sky — around him.

The worst was a feeling of emptiness that ate at his chest, like everything was simply _gone_ — only he existed, a small dot in the entire universe, his only anchor Revan's hand. It was a cold, terrible, sick feeling in his gut, burning at the back of his throat. "Stop," he murmured, and the scene immediately disappeared. The coldness lingered for a moment before quietly dissipating.

"Sorry," she said. When he opened his eyes, she was watching him sadly. "Short of taking a field trip, I didn't know how to to describe it."

"The Emperor did that?"

"Yes. And … I know he has to do it again. He won't stop — not until he's consumed everything. Once I found out, how could I come back? He was preparing to invade the Republic, which meant one of our worlds would get the same treatment. I couldn't let that happen to her, or you." She shook her head. "And he knew. When he was trying to get me to break, he showed me Coruscant like that. The Core Worlds. The _Republic_. I have to stop him. I'm the only one who can."

He shook his head. "There's always someone else."

"No one else can. He's said as much." Carth narrowed his eyes. "While I was in stasis — one of the times I slipped through our link. His Voice putting Malgus in charge of my prison. He said I was dangerous, and for him to make sure no one found me. Or that, if they did, they didn't survive long enough to free me. The Emperor is the closest thing this galaxy has to a god — not much is dangerous to him. Whether it's because of my strength in the Force, or because of my resistance to his control —" She paused. "That said, I haven't tried throwing a corpse full of Ardroxian flu at him. Might work."

Carth almost laughed. "His Voice?"

"Yeah. He possesses people, works through them. I don't know where his first body is, what species it was, or even if he still has it somewhere. From the way his mind works, and what I gleaned of his childhood, I'd say he's a Pureblood — not that it matters, probably."

"Did you know before you left?"

"What I was dealing with? No. By the time I did, it was too late." She frowned. "By 'too late,' I mean 'in stasis.'"

"Yeah. I figured."

"I did ask him, once, you know," she said, looking away. "Not long after it started. I told him I'd leave, never come back, if he just let me go. He laughed. Asked me why I thought he'd let someone like me run amok. Spent a good year trying to figure out why I was so desperate to leave, so he could use it as leverage. I think she was six, then, so probably around the time…" Revan shook her head and sighed. "I'm sorry. I made a miscalculation, and it cost us everything."

"Not everything."

"You could leave," she replied. "I'd be … I'd understand. I'd almost prefer it, really. It won't be safe near me. The Emperor obviously wants me back, or dead. I'd understand if you didn't want to endanger yourself. We've seen what Sith are capable of first-hand, and these are worse."

He shook his head. "I don't want that. I want to understand."

"Do you?"

"I don't know. Maybe a little. I'm still …" He sighed. "I understand why you decided it was important. It's just that we — _I_ fell apart without you. I couldn't go through that again. I kept it together until Nova … but after that, there just wasn't enough, you know?"

Revan carefully scooted around the tray and curled her arms around him, tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder. Carth did the same, hands heavy and warm on her back.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "You and her were the only good things this galaxy ever let me have, I just didn't know it until I couldn't come home. I'm sorry. You deserve so much better than this."

"Maybe I don't."

"Say that again and I'm gonna smack you." He half-laughed. "I'm dead serious, Carth Onasi."

"I know you are." He pulled away. "Is that it? Be honest, for once."

"It's all I can tell you without making your eyes roll back — unless you _want_ an in-depth lesson in Force theory and Sith philosophy?"

"Not when you put it like that."

"That's what I thought." She frowned. "There is one other thing you should know."

"Oh?"

"The Emperor created a neural link between us. I kind of said it already." He nodded. "I thought it might disappear out of stasis. It … hasn't."

Carth frowned. "He's still in there?"

"It's weak, but I can feel it. I assume the most he could do is annoy me occasionally. But you wanted to know everything, and, well. That's probably important for you to know."

"Alright, then." Carth nodded to her tray. "Finish eating, or the medbay is gonna kill me."

"Well, we can't have that," Revan said as she picked up her spoon.

#

She spent most of the ride back in Carth's stateroom, sleeping with occasional breaks where Carth tried to coax her to eat. By the time they said goodbye to Thaymina and Gav'riel and stepped onto Mariamne's light Corvette-class ship, most of the color had returned to Revan's skin, and she'd successfully spent about four hours awake sketching out a new design for T3 and commiserating with Carth over the plethora of highly inaccurate Mandalorian Wars-era documentaries.

After a brief introduction to her crew, or the one remaining person who hadn't come with them on Maelstrom, Carth and Revan settled into the cockpit with Mariamne and Kira. "We're going to Tython, birthplace of the Order," Mariamne explained. "After the Temple on Coruscant was destroyed, Master Satele found Tython and moved the entire Order's operations base from the Senate tower. It's just a short jump from where we left the fleet."

"Probably for the best," Revan said, watching one of the navigation screens. "I can't imagine much got done with the Senators breathing down your necks."

"No, no, I doubt it. I was eleven when the Temple fell — got shuffled off to the Rim with a Master only a couple years later." Mariamne guided the ship into hyperspace, light blurring past the viewports.

"Where are you off to once you drop us off?" Carth asked.

"Ugh," Kira said. "Hoth."

Both Revan's and Carth's noses scrunched. "Ew." Revan shook her head. "I hate that place. What mission does the Council have you running off on?"

"Oh, you know." Mariamne shifted in her seat. "Defeating the Sith Empire, hunting down Var Suthra's godsdamn superweapons, the usual."

"Right." She looked up at Carth, who shook his head and shrugged. "Well, good luck."

"Thanks, we'll probably need it." She slowed the ship, carefully bringing it out of hyperspace. "Here we are. Kira, call the Council and tell them we're on our way."

She nodded and opened the comm, finding the right frequency. Mariamne pointed her ship at Tython's orbital docking station. "This is Knight Galon's ship to the Council. We've got two special guests on board, wanting to know if we can give them the VIP treatment, over."

Revan looked over at Carth and mouthed _I like her_. He grinned.

A few moments later, a woman answered over the comm. :: _This is Satele. I_ _'ve transmitted instructions to the pilots on the station. I will meet them at the Temple landing pad._ ::

"A personal welcome from the Grand Master," Kira said as she hung up. "Congratulations."

"Looking forward to it," Revan said dryly.


	8. The More Things Change

As promised, Satele was waiting for them as the shuttle settled in the Temple landing bay. She stood with the same ease Revan expected from Force users of confidence and talent, hands folded in front of her as the shuttle's ramp fell to the ground with a clank. There was little that made her look like Bastila — maybe something around the eyes, or the way the doublesaber at her side rested against her thigh. Revan paused for a moment at the top of the ramp, letting the warm mid-afternoon air wash over her.

Warmth. She wasn't used to warmth. Carth pressed his hand into the small of her back, and she looked up at him. "Are you alright?"

She nodded and smiled, despite the sudden churn in her stomach. "I'm fine."

Stasis had never been warm. Stasis had _always_ been cold.

"Satele Shan," not-Bastila said, motioning to herself, as they stepped off the ramp. "Grand Master of the Order. The report I received claimed that _you_ are Revan."

"Believe me yet?" Carth asked, frost biting at his words.

Satele frowned. "Are you?"

"I don't know." Revan motioned to Carth. "Do you believe he's actually Carth Onasi, former Republic admiral and participant in Revan's super secret suicide mission?"

"That is … true. If you feel well enough, the Council is eager to meet with you. They believe you may hold insight to a small problem we are dealing with."

Revan nodded, and Satele turned and motioned them after her. She leaned in closer to Carth. "They're still about as warm and welcoming as Hoth, aren't they?"

Carth chuckled. "And to think, I spent the last four weeks around here."

"Damn. Sorry."

The interior of the Temple itself was not unlike the one on Coruscant, albeit far smaller in scale. The shuttle pad itself was on the second level, with a tall, open arch heading inside. Revan followed Satele in, holding T3's memory core close to her chest and embarrassingly thankful for Carth's firm hand on her back. They entered another hallway and as Satele turned right, Revan looked left into a circular room with a blue-tinged glow, lined with shelves of flickering holorecordings. She only had a second's glance as they turned right again, onto a circular balcony around an enormous floating holocron-shaped object, framed by two sweeping ramps that led to the lower floor. A Padawan nearby met her eyes and quickly looked away.

"I think my reputation precedes me again," she said quietly. Carth shook his head.

"I'm sure it didn't."

She frowned and stared at Satele's back rather studiously as the woman pushed open a door at the top of the ramps, and paused to look back at them.

"Admiral, I am going to have to ask you—"

"No," Revan said firmly, reaching back and wrapping her hand around his wrist. She could tolerate a lot on a good day — but the past 114,080 days (she'd counted) had been the absolute _farthest_ thing from a "good day," and she was not going to tolerate another Jedi Council solo just yet.

"Anna…" Carth tried to pull her hand off his arm. "Anna, it's fine. I'll just wait out here."

"No," she repeated, forcefully. "I didn't tolerate that secretive Jedi nerfshit before, I'm not going to tolerate it from any Council that doesn't contain Vrook Lamar now."

Carth sighed and looked at Satele; Satele rubbed a spot in between her eyebrows hard. "Very well. Come with me, please."

Revan triumphantly looked up at Carth, but he just shook his head as Satele closed the door behind them. "You're antagonizing them already?"

"Keeps them on their toes," she replied.

They followed Satele into the circular Council chamber, a large, windowless room mostly empty save for a circular holotable surrounded by twelve chairs. Only a few were occupied, and she quickly scanned them — a Togruta, a Kel Dor, a Nautolan, and another human. Satele took her place to the left of the table. Revan stopped at the edge, leaning heavily on one of the empty chairs near the doors.

Always good to have a quick exit, after all.

"This is the current Jedi High Council, save a few members who are currently occupied," Satele started. "Masters Bela Kiwiiks, Tol Braga, Wens Aleusis, and Jaric Kaedan. Masters … this is the woman from Master Galon's report."

"Revanna Galon," Revan said. "You may be more familiar with the name Revan, however."

The male human scoffed, folding his arms. "Is this a joke, Satele? Revan has been dead for three hundred years."

"You'd probably like that, wouldn't you?" Revan shot back. She glanced at Carth, currently pressing his fist into his mouth.

Great. Another Vrook.

"For what it is worth, Jaric, I believe her," Satele replied. Revan frowned, looking over. "I suspect I and Master Galon would know better than anyone, would we not?"

Kaedan's frown deepened, but he didn't argue.

"That might be the first time a Grand Master hasn't dismissed me out of hand since Master Sunrider," Revan muttered.

"If you _are_ Revan," the Kel Dor — Braga — said, folding his hands behind his back. "Where have you been for the last three centuries?"

Revan straightened, shifting her weight to her other foot. "I've been in stasis in the Maelstrom Nebula, apparently, a prisoner of the Sith Emperor. He was going through my mind for information — fortunately, that link is now mostly dissolved."

That got their attention. Braga straightened considerably — Satele and Kaedan uncrossed their arms.

"You didn't mention this," Satele said.

"In our minute conversation earlier? It's not _exactly_ something I want the Padawans gossiping about over dinner."

"You were … linked to the Emperor's mind?" Braga asked. Revan narrowed her eyes.

"Why?"

"The Emperor is our primary enemy," Satele said. "Striking a blow against him could end the war."

Revan shook her head. "The Emperor is the major power in the Empire, but it'd be easy for the Dark Council to take over in a vacuum. I fully support taking him down for a multitude of reasons, but it won't end the Empire."

"It—"

"It would strike a blow, yeah. But you're not …" She squinted. "What are you planning?"

Kaedan looked down at the table and shook his head. She squinted further.

"We are not planning—" Satele started.

"Let's get something straight, here," Revan interrupted said, knifing her hand into the back of the chair. "You do not understand the _thing_ you are dealing with. Out in the Unknown Regions there is an uncharted world that has been wiped completely clean of the Force. I'm not talking about Katarr — I'm talking about a world completely blank. _That_ was the Emperor.

"This man _eats worlds_. I have been inside his head. He will destroy the entire galaxy to fuel his own power, and if he gets the opportunity, he'll move on to another, and then he will wipe the entire _universe_ clean. I don't know what clever plan you all have concocted — knowing the Jedi, I can guess — but there is _absolutely no way_ to protect the galaxy, save for destroying him. _The Emperor must be destroyed._ That is the _only_ way."

No one on the Council would meet her eyes, and she threw her hand up. "Will someone at least acknowledge that I just spoke?"

"Your point is valid, and we will consider it," Satele said, firmly. Revan grumbled in the back of her throat. No, they wouldn't. "Your experience doubly so. I have also taken the liberty of contacting Republic High Command. They are … skeptical, but wish to speak with you. Your strategic expertise — and experience with the Empire — will make you invaluable."

"Fair enough." Revan straightened up.

"Why were you kept in stasis?" Braga inquired. The Council was starting to meet her eyes again.

"Several reasons, as far as I could tell." She held up her hand. "One, the Emperor has the ability to dominate minds. I appear to be at least marginally resistant to it. He had to make sure that was an … anomaly, as opposed to something that had developed in the Jedi. Two. My connection to the Force is unusual, both in strength and type. My entire life has been a string of inquisitive Masters attempting to determine _why_ that is, and the Emperor was no different. I suspect he wanted to see if it was exploitable, or at least duplicable.

"Third. I am, simply, a threat to him. I defied him once and lost him the Star Forge, and when I defied him again I destroyed his original Voice. I'm certain he's worried that another encounter with me, this time on absolute equal footing, might not end in his favor. And, fourth." She sighed. "I have information in here—" Revan tapped her forehead. "—that he is desperate to have. Locking me up and establishing a neural link with my mind let him go through my memories at will, looking for what he wanted."

"If the Emperor was the one … 'sorting through your thoughts,'" Kaedan said. "How can you claim to know so much about his plans?"

Revan scoffed. "A door once opened, Vrook 2.0. He wasn't bothering me _all_ the time, so I occasionally snuck through if I realized his own protections were down. I didn't see everything — he noticed after a few minutes each time — but I saw enough to keep apprised. And occasionally he'd get sloppy and I'd catch the stray thought here or there. It's certainly possible to forget, even for the strongest Force-user in the galaxy. Getting through just involves making yourself very unnoticeable."

"Is this link still active?" Braga asked. She narrowed her eyes.

"Why? You looking to make a call?"

"No. It could simply be useful."

Revan pursed her lips but closed her eyes, and let the smallest bit of her own mental wards fall. At the end of a very, very dark thread she could still feel him, stirring at the other end of the galaxy. She frowned and quickly pulled away, resetting her protections before opening her eyes. "Yes. It's weak, and I doubt either of us could reach the other without a severe test of will, but it is there." _He_ _'s_ there. She stepped a little closer to Carth unconsciously, and his hand slipped from her back to curl around her waist.

The Councilors looked between one another, and Satele finally nodded. "Very well. We will likely have further questions for you, but I believe that is all for now. You must still be tired."

"There is one thing," Kaedan said. Revan looked up — Satele was frowning, but otherwise silent. "You are back among the Jedi, now. That carries with it … responsibilities. Responsibilities and appearances that cannot be hindered by att—"

"Wait, wait, wait, _wait_." Revan straightened up, laughing. "Are you about to give me the _attachments_ talk?" Kaedan opened his mouth, and she held up her hand. "Let me make one thing absolutely, one hundred percent clear, here. The Sith brutally tortured me, indirectly made me invade the Republic, and kept me in stasis for three hundred years. Now the _Jedi_ though … they took me prisoner, 'rehabilitated' me —" She arched her fingers around the phrase. "— by brainwashing me with new memories that would have made me a servant, sent me running across the galaxy hunting down my own superweapon, and had absolutely no idea what to do with me because no one expected me to _dare_ survive. As you can imagine, I'm not particularly fond of _either_ Order.

"So I want you to understand one thing, Vrook 2.0 … I am not Jedi, I am not Sith. I am _my own_. And if you think for one _godsdamned_ second that I care what you think, or what you would dictate, or that I'd take the Order that would have made me a slave over the man who iced himself for three hundred years just to yell at me himself, you are _damn_ wrong. The only reason I'm working with _you_ lot is that a Jedi has a better chance against the Emperor than a Sith. If you think I won't hire a shuttle, cart my ass to High Command, and leave you all high and dry as soon as you try and tell me what to do, you are _sorely_ mistaken." She narrowed her eyes. "I've been in enough cages to recognize this one."

Kaedan scowled. She looked at Satele. "Am I free to leave, or is he planning on locking me in here until I acquiesce? Because I will tear off the godsdamned roof and fly out before that happens."

Satele's frown deepened. "You are free to leave."

Revan turned sharply on her heel and stormed out. Carth glanced back at the Council before jogging after her. "Anna—" He tried to stop her, and she jerked out of his grip. "Anna!"

"What?" she snapped, then stopped and dragged her fingers across her eyes. She looked tired again, like the Council had reminded her of her ordeal. "Sorry, Carth. What?"

"Are you sure it's … I mean, walking away from the Council like that? You've never been reverent on the best of days, but —"

"I had a lot of time to think in stasis, when the Emperor wasn't busy with me," she said. "The Sith certainly aren't right, but the Jedi aren't either." She sighed, picking up his hands. "I'm not worried about falling. My mind is clearer than ever, in that regards. But what I … I'm worried about scale."

His brows knit a little. "Scale?"

She nodded, looking down at their hands. "I lose track sometimes, get too focused on the big picture. It's what I did during the Mandalorian Wars — if ten thousand die here so that a hundred thousand live somewhere else, well, that's a good enough trade."

"What? No it isn't!"

"Exactly. I see results, you see costs. I …" Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. "I need that. I need _you_. I'm afraid of what I could do if I don't have you keeping me on track. And if that means I tell the Council to shove it, then I tell the Council to shove it. I won't abandon you after you froze yourself for three hundred years, Carth, not for an organization that would have enslaved me, imprisoned me, or worse."

Carth stared down at her for a moment, then pulled his hands out of her own. She frowned until he tipped her face up and, not caring that they were standing in front of the Jedi Council Chambers in front of an unknown number of Jedi, he kissed her.

She stepped back and grinned up at him as she took his hand. "Come on," she said. "After that, I need to get some air."

#

They sat on a large hill overlooking the Temple grounds, the sun warm and full on their faces as it set. Revan leaned her head back onto Carth's shoulder, letting the dying warmth break over her skin. He tightened his arms, nuzzling his face into her shoulder with a heavy, contented sigh.

"This _is_ real, isn't it?" she asked quietly, and he raised his head. "It was — it wasn't ever warm, no matter where I made myself think I was. This is real. I'm out — I'm free."

"This is real, gorgeous," Carth murmured, raising his head and pressing a kiss to her temple. "This is real."

She turned in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and nestling her face into the crook of his shoulder. And for the first time in a very long time, the _real_ Carth was able to hold her as she cried.


	9. Old Friends, Take 2

They were scheduled to leave for Coruscant about two days after Revan arrived on Tython. By then she'd seemingly made a full recovery, spending more hours awake than asleep and shivering much less in the warm Tython air. Carth knew better, though. The way her eyes darted at shadows, and how she clung to him at night, said otherwise.

At some point she was allowed to raid the Jedi armory and put together a comparatively plain set of robes that echoed her pre-disappearance choices — a white undershirt with a dark blue robe over black leggings and tall boots, now adding a broad, purple tabard tacked at her waist by a red leather belt. Her lightsabers, thoroughly checked for faults, were still kept within easy reach at the front of her belt, with two matching hilts at her back. He'd asked what they were for, but she'd simply shrugged and mumbled "might be handy."

The night before they were going to leave, when Revan seemed at her strongest, Carth led her into the holoarchives to find Katherion. Revan trailed behind him, his hand firmly wrapped around hers. Carth knew that someone was probably not informed, and he'd never hear the end of it if Revan found out from someone else.

"Master Katherion?" Carth asked, as they reached the Cathar master. He lowered his datapad, glancing between the two of them.

"These really aren't public use," he protested.

"Just this once," Carth said, fully aware that it wouldn't be 'just this once' as soon as Revan found out.

Katherion sighed and stood, waving them after him.

"Carth, we really don't —" Revan protested as they headed into the Noetikon room. Katherion once again removed the Noetikon from its cradle, activated it, and headed out with a nod back. "I really—" Carth glanced back as the three Noetikon masters appeared in front of them. "I—"

Bastila moved her mouth quietly, not speaking, and quickly shooed away her fellows. As they disappeared, she stared at the woman to his left. "Anna?" she whispered.

" _Bastila_?" Revan sounded almost on the verge of tears.

"Yeah. They added me to —"

"The Noetikon of Secrets, I can tell. I …" She swallowed heavily. " _Force_."

"Where _were_ you?" Bastila demanded, wrapping a fistful of her robes in her hand. "I knew you were still out there. I _knew_ you were! Where were you?"

"Well, thanks for the warm welcome," Revan replied wryly. Bastil asighed and dragged her finger sover her eyes. "I got sloppy, Bas, I messed up. Carth just found me."

He gently curled his arm around her waist. "She was in a Sith prison, Bastila. Even if she could have escaped —"

"Which would have been impossible."

"— she would have been in a nebula she couldn't navigate. We had to jump through fifty hoops just to find her."

Bastila sighed heavily, and Revan held up her hand. "Don't apologize. I'm sorry, Bastila. I'd planned to come home. It just never worked out that way."

"I know. I apologize anyway."

"You look …" Revan squinted. "Did you really start wearing your hair like that?"

Bastila frowned and touched her hair. "I was busy the day I made this record, I'm sorry I neglected to fix my _hair_." Revan laughed quietly. "And meanwhile, here you are, looking no different than you did three hundred years ago. Consider me _very_ jealous."

"Should I leave you two to it?" Carth asked, pulling away.

"You don't have to."

"I'll just be right outside." He kissed her forehead and stepped out the doors. Revan sighed and, as soon as the door closed, her face fell. Bastila simply nodded.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly.

"I'll be fine."

"It _was_ the Empire, then?"

"I was right, Bastila, about all of it. The Sith were out there, waiting. I found the outskirts of the Empire and when I learned more I just … I couldn't come back." She looked away. "They were preparing to invade. I had to stop them."

"What did you learn?"

"Everything that happened to me. The Mandalorian Wars, what happened to Malak and I … it all goes back to the Emperor."

"Everything?"

"Yeah. Malak and I tried to kill him — that's how we were captured, that's how we fell the rest of the way. He can dominate minds, Bastila, but not mine — I don't know why. He did that the first time, he tried to do it the second time. So he threw me in a type of stasis, keeping me alive as he sifted through my head and tried to figure out if my resistance was a fluke, or was something the Jedi had cultivated."

Bastila nodded. "The Emperor is a bigger threat than the Empire?"

"By far. He consumes worlds."

"Like Katarr?"

She shook her head. "I think it's worse. The description I got of Katarr said it was a ragged wound — the Emperor leaves planets severed surgically. Much more polished — much more dangerous."

"I see. So you pose a threat to him?"

"Yes." Bastila nodded, and motioned for her to continue. "Between his inability to dominate me, my strength in the Force, and my stubborn desire to see his entire Empire brought down around his ears…"

"I can guess. Then why did he allow you to live? Wasn't that more dangerous?"

"That's what I thought. But there was information he needed."

"Information?"

"I found the Star Forge because the Emperor wanted me to." Bastila raised her eyebrow. "He wanted the Star Forge's production capabilities to feed the Imperial war machine when it invaded the Republic. There are other factories — he wanted those too."

She frowned deeply. "Other fa— there's _more_ Star Forges out there?"

"They're more specialized — they only do ships or droids, not both. Some need actual resources to use. But he wanted all of them, and I erased the data off the Forge, which means I'm the only person who knows where they are."

"So does that mean he returned your memories?" Revan nodded. Bastila's face softened considerably, and she took the smallest step forward. "Are you alright?"

"I'm … no, I'm not," she said, quietly. "But I've had a few hundred years to come to terms with it, when he wasn't busy with me. After the first few hundred years, when I knew everyone — except maybe Zaalbar — was dead, that was the worst. I couldn't … I'm sorry, Bastila."

She shook her head. "There is nothing for you to apologize for. _I_ _'m_ sorry. I should have come after you. I could have —"

"No! No, you were needed here, and the Emperor would have …" Revan faltered for a moment, swallowing heavily. "He would have just used you to break me, and it may have worked. If any of you had come out after me …" She shook her head. "I don't want to think of what he would have done."

Bastila sighed. "I still wish I could have done something. I felt so helpless, feeling the bond between us diminish and being unable to help. I wish you had been able to come back. We needed you here. _I_ needed you here. Being the sole progressive voice on the Council … I did what I could, but it wasn't enough."

Revan frowned. "Then why did they take her? You knew what that would do to him."

" _I_ advocated against it. I told them to leave her, that Carth would let us train her. I was overruled." She shook her head. "We could have ushered in a complete reform of the Order, loosened the rigidity, brought about another golden age for the Jedi. Instead we were afraid of change, and went back to what nearly destroyed us."

"What happened to her?"

"I took her as a Padawan, once she was old enough. It felt right. I made sure she learned the way you would have wanted her to, even if the rest of the Council frowned on it. By the time I'd made this, she'd been on the Council with me for nearly fifty years, trying to fix the Order. She was easily our best — so much like you and Carth. I told her all I knew about the both of you — including who you were, and what you'd done. I knew you would want it that way."

"Thank you."

Bastila frowned, crossing her arms and raising her hand to her mouth. "If you're such a threat to the Emperor … what is he going to do, now that you're gone?"

Revan shrugged. "Try to kill me? Try to trick me into coming back? I don't know. The Empire doesn't seem to care at the moment, but I'm sure they don't want to admit the Republic bested them. He's got a plan to deal with me, I'm sure of it."

"Can he be stopped?"

Revan sighed heavily. "I don't know. I know he can be weakened — our second duel, I killed one of the bodies he uses."

Bastila almost groaned. "Don't tell me —"

"— that he can pass his consciousness from one body to another? Sorry, Bas. He can."

"This is a _nightmare_."

"Tell me about it."

"So killing one of those bodies weakens him?"

"I believe so. He seemed weakened after I killed that one, but he was still able to put me into stasis. I think another Voice — without consuming another planet — might make him weak enough to destroy."

"How?"

"A wall of light, maybe? It worked for Qel-Droma. I can't imagine how many Jedi we would need for one, even if the Emperor was weak. That's something for us to find out, I guess, unfortunately. The biggest risk is that he might consume another world … and the Voice I killed, and whatever Voice got killed next, wouldn't be worth a damn."

"You think he would?"

"I know he would. He told me as much."

Bastila shook her head. "So it's a race against time … and against _him_."

"Yeah. One I don't think we can win."

She narrowed her eyes as she thought for a moment. "Even with _you_ —"

"I'm not a god, Bastila, and he's the closest thing we've seen. I'm good … but I'm not that good."

"You _are_ , though. Even if he is as strong as you say … The first time I saw you, on your bridge, I could _feel_ your strength in the Force. It was overwhelming, like looking at a star. I don't know that I can comprehend a Force-user who surpasses you, but I _can_ see you defeating them. You have always found a way to do the impossible. I doubt this will be any different."

Revan laughed and shook her head. "You have no idea what I'm up against, Bastila. This guy wiped the floor with me — _twice_. I've spent three hundred years in his head. I know how slim the odds are on this. I'd take Cassus Fett again any day."

"Be that as it may … I believe there is nothing you cannot handle."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Revan mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. Bastila frowned. "I'm just … I'm sorry. I wish I could impress what we're dealing with on you, but I don't know that I can. He's horrible, absolutely horrible. He could likely destroy an entire army by blinking, he can control the Empire without raising a finger himself. He is unbelieveably dangerous. More dangerous than I am. I'm …" She sighed and looked away. "I'm so tired. No one believes me. The current Council thinks they're just dealing with another overblown Sith Lord. I showed Carth what he did to his homeworld, Nathema … I think he may be the only one who believes me. The Council's up to something, but they won't listen to me. Why is it that no one listens to me until they know I'm _right_?"

"I don't know."

She was pacing now, agitated, motioning with her hands. "They'll play right into his hands because they think they're just dealing with another Sith. They'll make a mistake that hands the Emperor exactly what he's after. I don't know what his endgame is — it's like playing dejarik with a quarter of the board obscured — but I know he will destroy the Republic doing it. He's going to destroy the Empire, eventually, but we both know no one is going to believe their god-Emperor has anything but the best in store for them. I know he'll wipe the galaxy clean of life, but I don't know how, or where, or why. He's up to something, and I have to find out what it is, but I can't do that if the godsdamned Jedi play right into him!"

"I know." She looked up, finding Bastila watching her with a mixture of concern and pity. Revan raised her hand.

"Don't start with that."

Bastila held up her hands. "I'm not. I just … I'm sorry. The things you've been through, I cannot imagine. Everything that I thought you might be experiencing, out there … this is so much worse. Thinking that I could have stopped this, had I tried—"

"Don't start doing that to yourself."

"I will try not to. I wish I could help you now, but I can only offer you this." She sighed. "Not that I expect you will _need_ my advice—"

"I'll probably want it. Half the time you know me better than I know myself, after all."

She laughed. "That is true enough. Do you feel better now?"

"A little," Revan admitted.

"Good."

"I just wish I had another chance. To go back and go _home_. The time I spent with all of you after the Jedi Civil War … those two years were the happiest in my life. I'd give almost anything to go back to them."

"Then do me a favor," Bastila replied. Revan nodded. "Let Carth help you. He took an enormous risk to see you again — one I almost wish I had taken. For the galaxy's sake, don't push him away."

"I hardly plan to. He froze himself in carbonite for me. Having him now … I was so certain I'd lost everyone. I thought I was hallucinating — I'm still not entirely sure I'm _not_ , but the longer I'm free the more I believe I haven't gone mad.

"I don't know that I deserve yet another chance from the galaxy. I wish I'd had the good sense to turn around and go home before … well. Maybe I'm just getting old. I don't know."

"It _has_ been three hundred years," Bastila said gently.

"I don't know that I deserve that type of loyalty, after everything." She sighed and looked away. "I told him as much as he'd understand. But I don't want to drag him into this grudge match. The Emperor will find out, and I don't want to know what he'll do."

"I am afraid that Carth is already involved, regardless of what you want."

"I know."

"Are you certain you're alright? What you've been through, and with your memories returning—"

"I'll be fine. I just need time to adjust. Three hundred years is a long time to live in a fantasy world, Bastila. I'm just … I'm so tired."

She was quiet for a while. "I know," Bastila finally murmured, looking away. "I know."


	10. A Fickle Food on a Shifting Plate

 

Coruscant was in a buzz by the time they landed.

The Jedi had contacted High Command and informed them that they'd "found" former Admiral Carth Onasi in carbonite and defrosted him but, apart from a couple of Command meetings where they'd determined he didn't know very much, there was little fanfare. Revan, though … Revan's strategies were still taught in the military, and Revan's genius was legendary both in and outside it. The Jedi's claim that Revan had been found, then—

Current historical opinion was, of course, that Revan was a human male of vague origin who had disappeared into the Unknown Regions after saving the Republic, and something something "Sith Lord." A few high-ranking military aides had leaked the rumor about Revan to the press, along with all the relevant details, and it ignited a firestorm of contention. Several highly regarded Mandalorian War era historians accepted the news, citing records of Revan's androgynous appearance in the Mandalorian Wars until their faked death in the Jedi Civil War. Upon learning her name and the alias she'd used in the Jedi Civil War, they stated that she solved the mystery of a female Jedi, the darling of a hundred conspiracy theories, who was never reported dead or even missing of the same name. It also solved conflict over the identity of the hero of the Jedi Civil War, who some primary sources claimed was female, not male.

Other experts immediately circled their speeders, vehemently denying that this woman could be the former Revan, and that all historical evidence of the last three hundred years indicated that their previous conclusions were correct. It resulted in a large series of articles that came out nearly overnight, the first entitled _Revan: Have they really been found?_ and spawning an immediate series of _A Comment On_ _…_ and _In Response To_ … articles, resulting in the closest thing historical academics have to a bloody cagefight.

The media latched onto it immediately, and so did the public. Conspiracy theory sites crashed under the weight of millions of visit, and Revan's page on the Holopedia jumped from several million views to close to billions within the span of a few hours as editors fought over proposed changes to it. Morning holonews shows cashed in on the conflict by inviting parties from all sides to argue during the morning commute. Someone in the Senate Tower reported that the Supreme Chancellor had shut himself inside his office with the vidscreen turned on max volume.

The Empire was uncomfortably silent.

The sparks were still flying by the time a Council shuttle set down near the Senate and Revan, Carth, and a large Jedi escort stepped out into the lights of several hundred media drones and barking reporters.

"Right," Revan said. "I forgot I hated this."

Carth didn't reply, one hand tight on his blaster and the other holding onto her belt.

Not far out of the spaceport, she self-consciously tugged the hood of the heavy robe she'd taken when they'd left Tython, hiding her face in thick shadows. "I kind of miss my mask," she muttered. Carth kept close to her as they made their way to the Senate plaza and into the enormous Senate tower, accosted by media personnel. Senate guards finally stopped their entourage, and Revan released a sigh of relief once they were out of sight.

"I am glad to see our meeting was kept secret," Satele grumbled with a sigh. "Follow me."

They made their way to the briefing room, and Revan finally lowered her hood. Satele opened the door into a large room, somehow standing-room only. Individuals with more metal on their chests than in an entire cruiser sat in front, surrounded by a veritable sea of generals, admirals, aides, and at least one full squad of Republic SpecOps soldiers.

"I thought I was having an introductory meeting, not giving a lecture," Revan grumbled. Carth couldn't help a small grin.

"Apparently they forgot about, you know. The Sith thing."

"I can't say I'm not glad they haven't broken out the stun-cuffs yet," she replied. "At least the media's still outside."

Being introduced to the higher echelons of Republic command alone took nearly a half-hour, during which she was barraged with a variety of names, ranks, and notable service in battles she'd never heard of. Finally she was ushered to a chair at a table facing the rest of the room, which almost immediately fell silent. Carth hung back on the edge of the crowd, running a finger along the butt of his blaster.

"As you may be aware," Satele said without any hint of sarcasm, addressing the room with her usual neutral expression. Revan studied the ceiling for a moment as she leaned back in her chair, hooking one knee over the other. "Recently, a Jedi operation infiltrated an Imperial prison in the Maelstrom Nebula. We have confirmed for ourselves that the individual held there is, in fact, the —"

"I can handle this part, thanks, Grand Master," Revan said, and motioned to herself as Satele nodded and took a seat in front. "Revanna Galon, though — as she would have insinuated eventually — better remembered as either Jedi General Revan, of the Mandalorian Wars, or Darth Revan, for the first two and a half years of the Jedi Civil War. I wanted to cut the introduction short, as I'm sure you have questions."

There was a slight pause, and one of the admirals leaned forward. "If you _are_ Revan," he said. "How have you survived three hundred years? You should be long dead."

"The … actual mechanisms would be difficult to explain," she replied. "And I don't mean that in — even I don't fully understand them. It involved a combination of Sith alchemy and the Force."

"Why, though?" A second admiral spoke. "Why go through the effort to keep you alive for so long?"

She sighed. "Again … that is difficult to explain. When Malak and I disappeared after the Mandalorian Wars, it was the Empire we found. There are certain … aspects of my person that caught the Emperor's attention then. When I returned sans-memories after the Jedi Civil War, not only did I possess information he needed locked behind my amnesia, but I now posed a serious threat to him. It was safer to completely restrain me until he had the information he needed, which would also allow him to study me and reassure himself that I was an anomaly, not the rule."

"What do you mean?"

"Again, it's difficult to explain to non-Force users." She motioned with her hands as she tried to explain. "Most Jedi only achieve mastery of the Force through rigid dedication and discipline. Most Sith only achieve it through reliance on strong, powerful, emotion, which is how they achieve such raw power. This difference is why it often takes two or more Jedi to take down an accomplished Sith Lord, while a Sith Lord can easily devastate a lone Jedi. Most of my life has been a string of Masters attempting to determine why my connection to the Force as a child outstripped many of the most disciplined Masters, or the strongest Sith. The Emperor's curiosity was no different."

"And that's it?"

"It's the version I can give you that doesn't require delving into the mechanisms of Force sensitivity, yes. And I think we can all agree we don't have time for me to explain those."

"But you cannot confirm whether you—" A general started. Revan leaned forward on the table with a frown.

"Battle of Duro," she said. "When the Jedi were still only members of the Mercy Corps, not Generals. I seized control of a fleet from Admiral Gorhal during a Mandalorian ambush. In the face of a superior force I adapted a ground flanking tactic on the fly — pulling the center of the fleet back, allowing smaller, lighter ships to encircle the Mandalorian fleet as they gave chase. In a battle that should have cost the Republic a dreadnought, two battle cruisers, three heavy cruisers, six Hammerhead-class ships, and most of the light capital ships, there were no losses and only one ship needed major repairs — while the opposing fleet was completely obliterated."

"You can believe me, or you can not. It doesn't matter. But if I am who I _say_ I am, can you really afford to pass up the strategic miracles I was able to pull out of thin air? You can vet my strategies if you want, have me run simulation tests, hell, I'm sure there's a gene-print somewhere — doesn't particularly matter to me. But I think we all know you can't afford to lose the chance."

#

The larger meeting lasted another few hours, during which a droid working in the Corellian Museum of Military History happened to locate a biometric ID supposedly belonging to Revan themselves. After that, it was quite easy to confirm her identity. Carth noticed with some relief that the tension eased a little from her shoulders.

Afterward, around four hours later, the room was cleared until it was just members of High Command, Satele, and them. The topic changed to the nearing end of the Cold War. Revan was immediately in the thick of it, citing fleet strengths and locations of strategic importance.

"If you were a prisoner, how did you learn so much about the Imperial military?" one of the generals asked. "According to Intelligence, the Emperor is mostly hands-off."

"That's what the Emperor wants you to think," she said. "Appearing absent helps his own interests. He definitely knows what's going on at all times."

"Then why not wield his influence directly?"

"I never figured that out. I'm certain there's a reason, but I only had cursory contact with his side of the link." Revan leaned back in her chair precariously. "He's up to something, that much I know. I'm not sure what, but we should probably be worried about it."

By the time they left the Senate tower, it was late in the Coruscanti afternoon. The media crowd had dispersed and the plaza was back to its usual bustle of aides and politicians. Carth and Revan broke off from their Jedi escort and found a quiet corner of the memorial gardens, Revan leaning heavily on her forearms against the railing. Carth rested one hand on the railing, and settled the other gently on her back. Even after the day's meetings, the idea that he had her back was still so unbelieveable that he feared she wasn't really there — and he knew she felt the same. She straightened and leaned into him, resting her head against his chest.

"I'm surprised we got away from Satele," Carth murmured. Revan snorted.

"There's ten Jedi within jumping distance," she replied. "And about seven more within earshot, including Satele. Don't worry. The Grand Master isn't quite ready to let me out of her sights just yet."

"Almost as bad as being locked in the Temple after the Star Forge?" he asked. She nestled down in his chest.

"Better," she murmured. "I have you this time—"

Something roared behind them, and Revan pulled away as they both turned. One of their Jedi escort had stopped someone behind them, a large Wookiee holding a holocomm that looked absolutely minuscule in their hands. Revan jogged back, with Carth on her heels.

"Anna—"

"Sh," she said, reaching them just as at least three other Jedi — including Satele — appeared a few meters away. "What's the problem here?"

"This W—"

" _I have a message_ ," the Wookiee interrupted, holding up the holocomm. " _I am Khemmaa. One of our elders on Kashyyyk wishes to speak with Jedi Revan._ "

"Uh." Revan glanced back at Carth. He shrugged.

"Zaalbar?" he mouthed. Revan echoed his shrug as she motioned the Jedi aside.

"I'd be honored," she said, narrowing her eyes and shaking her head at Satele. She motioned the other Jedi away as the Wookiee waved them after her. They were led back into the Tower, to a side office, with at least three Jedi tailing them — Revan kept a close eye on them. Carth read the sign on the door with a surprised frown.

"Kashyyyk joined the Republic?"

Their guide nodded. " _Largely through the efforts of my father. He encouraged us, and used some of his connections to help — including with your Order_." She crouched down at a large holoterminal and keyed in a code.

"Connections with the Jedi?" Revan looked back at Carth. "There's only one Wookiee that could be."

Carth nodded as a hologram of a large, stooped Wookiee leaning heavily on a thick cane appeared above the terminal. He studied them for a moment, until recognition finally dawning in his eyes. Revan and Carth traded a glance — for them both, it'd only been a few years since they'd seen him.

"Zaalbar?" Revan said, softly.

" _Anna!_ " Zaalbar exclaimed. " _Part of me did not think I would live to see you return. And Carth — I thought you were dead_."

Revan translated, and Carth rubbed the back of his neck. "It's a long story."

" _I_ _'m sure._ " He adjusted his grip on his cane.

"So _you_ led the Wookiees to join the Republic?" Revan asked. "All within three hundred years?"

" _After I returned, we finished driving Czerka off the world — for good_ ," he said. " _But I knew the Republic was our safest choice. Czerka would return, in one year or hundreds — it wouldn_ _'t matter. With the Republic, we would have resources to fall back on when they did. I gathered our clans in Rwookrrorro and we discussed it. We've had a presence on Coruscant for around one hundred standard years, now._ "

"Good," Revan replied. "It's high time the Wookiees took their place in the galaxy."

" _It was, and we_ _'ve started to_." Zaalbar looked down at himself with a sigh. " _I do not think I can resume my life-debt to you, Anna. I—_ "

She held up her hand. "I told you that you owed me nothing when I left."

" _I know. But I have been on Kashyyyk for fifty years now — I would be lying if I said I did not miss the stars. But I am afraid I would simply burden you._ "

Revan quickly translated, and immediately scoffed. "No, Zaalbar, you wouldn't at all. But—"

" _But_ —" Carth interrupted, with another glance at Revan. "It's been longer for you than it has for us. Don't worry, Z, we—"

"Besides, you're dragging the Wookiees to the stars, right? Sounds like you've got your hands full."

Zaalbar shook his head. " _You have always been too understanding. I am glad you have found one another again, after all this time._ "

"Could we come by Kashyyyk?" Revan asked. "Considering it's you and us now, I'd like to see you again."

" _You will always be welcome_ ," he said. " _There is one thing you might do for me._ "

"Of course."

" _Even though I was exiled from Kashyyyk, I would not have seen the galaxy for what it was without you. I am old, and many of ours that travel do so with no intention of returning, and I fear those of us here may lose sight of why we began to look beyond ourselves. If you were willing, I would ask that you take Khemmaa under your care — give her the experience she needs to keep us looking outward, and not inward._ "

Revan raised an eyebrow, glanced at the young Wookiee — who was currently looking between her father's hologram and Revan — and translated for Carth.

"And you're, uh, _sure_ you trust me with this?" Revan asked.

" _Of course I do_."

"That's a mistake," she muttered. Carth elbowed her. "What?"

" _Whatever you once were_ ," Zaalbar said. " _I know_ you. _I would have followed you into the unknown three hundred years ago, had you asked me. That has not wavered_."

She shook her head, lowering her gaze. "This galaxy honestly doesn't deserve Wookiees."

Zaalbar snorted. " _Perhaps not. But if Khemmaa agrees, I would be honored to know one of us was behind you again._ "

"This war is a lot different than ours was. Bigger. Vastly more dangerous," Carth said. "You're sure?"

" _We were on Coruscant when the Empire attacked. I know what happened. If anything, it makes it far more important._ "

"Alright," Revan said. "I guess we'll work out the details."

" _Thank you_ ," Zaalbar said, complete and honest gratitude echoing in his voice. " _And know you are welcome here on Kashyyyk anytime._ "

They said their farewells and the feed cut, and Carth and Revan turned to Khemmaa. The young Wookiee was studying them with a look that was a mixture of apprehensive and excited.

"You're absolutely _sure_ you want to do this?" Revan asked, before Carth could speak. "Carth wasn't exaggerating. Right now, I probably have at least half the Empire after my head — it won't be safe, _at all_."

She nodded. " _I was here when Coruscant was attacked. I know how dangerous it would be. But if you would have me, I would be glad to have your guidance._ "

"No, believe me, you _don_ _'t_ want _that_ ," Revan said. Carth nodded. "Hey."

"What? I was _agreeing_ —"

"You don't have to agree so vehemently," she grumbled. "At the moment, it's not all that interesting. The Jedi Council isn't going to let me out of their sights anytime soon, so I'll probably be on Tython until the media's quieted down." She nodded. "So unless you want a crash course in Jedi philosophy — which I don't recommend —"

Khemmaa laughed. " _No, no, I understand._ "

" _But_ , we'll keep in touch. And whenever we actually manage to escape these guys, we'll meet up."

She nodded. " _My father talks about you often, and the time where he helped save the galaxy. I can_ _'t wait to do the same._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Emily Dickinson, Poem 1702


	11. With Friends Like These

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about that. Here's the thing, kids: depression is fun. Really, really fun. And by fun, I mean the other thing.
> 
> Hopefully this is the only major disruption the CAU is going to get. I'd like to keep it rolling and updating twice a week, but it's occasionally difficult to do anything when my brain is actively against the idea of ... well, anything. It doesn't help that I was hung up on this chapter for some reason, but figured I should just bite the bullet, go ahead, and update. sighs. Leave me a bit of love, if you feel up to it.

Carth trailed his finger down Revan's spine, grinning at the way she grumbled under her breath and tucked herself tighter against his side. "You're sure you're alright?"

Revan scoffed. "Carth, it's been a month. I think I'm mostly recovered."

"You're dedicated to not letting me worry." He brushed a few strands of hair from her face as she frowned up at him.

"I think that's a task even I couldn't pull off. I'm pretty sure you worry about worrying."

"What? That's ridiculous."

Revan grinned, throwing her leg over his hips and pulling herself upright. He rested his hands on her waist and grinned back at her. "You would worry about galactic rotation if you could, I swear."

Carth pulled her back down to him, bringing his hands up to cup her face. "Who says I don't?"

When they were an inch apart, the silence of the nighttime Temple was broken by a loud, insistent chirping. "I don't know who that is," Revan muttered. "But I'm going to kill them."

"Don't answer it." Carth kissed her urgently as her comm continued to chirp in the background. Finally Revan drew back, wrapping her black outer robe around her bare shoulders as she stood. He frowned and propped himself up on his elbows as she answered the call.

"This is Revan."

:: _I hope I didn't wake you_. :: Thaymina appeared above the disk in her hand. Revan scrubbed at her eye.

"Only a little," she replied. "What is it?"

:: _I was hoping that I might borrow you,_ :: she said. :: _There is someone I'd like you to meet. I've arranged a meeting on Nar Shaddaa in four days, if you're interested. I can give you a ride, if you're amenable._ ::

"Who is it?"

:: _An acquaintance of mine. I believe you'll find each other … mutually interesting._ ::

Revan sighed and looked back at Carth. He shrugged. "Sure. I could do with a visit to the Shad. Carth is coming, though."

:: _Great. I'll be on Tython sometime tomorrow — I can give you a ride to and from._ :: Revan nodded. :: _I'll see you then._ ::

She hung up and dropped her comm onto the table. "What do you think that's about?" Carth asked.

"No idea." Revan turned back and let her robe fall with a sideways grin. "But more pressingly … where were we, flyboy?"

#

"This place belongs to my friend Khoshekh's sister's employer," Thaymina said as their speeder docked at a Nar Shaddaa sky palace. Carth helped Revan climb out of the back, and looked around suspiciously. "She's agreed to let me borrow it — at the moment, she's doing business on Balmorra — as long as we put everything back where we found it and I forward her a large sum of credits at my earliest convenience."

"And why did you drag us out to the ass-end of Hutt space?" Revan asked.

"There is someone I want you to meet, but it had to be on neutral ground." Thaymina led them deeper into the structure, past several large stock terminals monitored by several droids. "And it will take some explaining."

"How so?" Carth asked. Thaymina stopped them in a large central room, comfortably furnished and stocked with a copious amount of alcohol. Revan pointed at it.

"Am I allowed to drink? Because I honestly need a drink." Thaymina frowned. "Alright. I won't."

"Before you panic," Thaymina said, holding up her hand. "She's a Sith contact of mine."

"Oh, great," Revan said. "I have a several-million credit bounty on my head and you're taking me to see a Sith."

Thaymina laughed. "Honestly, I doubt she'd care. The only reason I suggested this meeting is that she and I have spent nearly a year discussing philosophy — _your_ philosophy." Revan blinked. "We had a chance meeting here on Nar Shaddaa. During it, she revealed that she had learned about you via a cult on Dromund Kaas dedicated to you, using … rather flawed information."

"Me? I have a cult?" She turned to Carth, looking a bit like a kath hound pup with a favorite toy. "Carth, Carth, I have a _cult_."

He shook his head and looked up at Thaymina. "You realize there will be no living with her after this."

"Anyway, I offered to pass on copies of some of your pre-disappearance writings. We've spent some time discussing them via holomail … and I thought you may be interested in meeting her, if only to learn more about this cult."

"Yeah, they could be useful. When is she getting here?"

"Should be any minute now. You are … alright with this? We can leave if—"

"No, no," she waved her hand. "It's fine. I'm not worried."

"Anna—"

"We can take _care_ of it if anything _happens_ ," she said, pointedly.

"Alright," Carth said. "But I'm keeping my hand on my blasters."

"I don't think it will be a problem," Thaymina said. "She is not that good at being Sith."

"I take offense to that, Master Galon," a smooth, Imperial female voice said. They turned to a door on the opposite side of the room as it slid open. A petite Rutian Twi'lek strolled through, wearing ornate, white and black robes and a tight-fitting, white open-faced helm. It made her look older, more experienced, but Revan thought there was something very _young_ about her — especially for a Sith Lord. A young Togruta trailed behind her, oddly wearing brown Jedi robes and looking rather surprised to see them. "I am a _very_ good Sith," the Twi'lek continued. "The rest simply aren't trying."

"Lord Nkiruka," Thaymina said, extending her hand. The Twi'lek Sith took it. "Are you still having trouble with Darth Thanaton?"

The Twi'lek rolled her eyes. "An unbearable amount, to be honest. And you were working with an alliance?"

"An unbelievable amount of politicking. I would take front-line healing any day." She shook her head, stepping back. "As pleasant as it would be to catch up, that is not why I asked you to stop by." Nkiruka inclined her head, and Thaymina motioned to Revan and Carth. "These are … distant … relations of mine. I—"

"I've heard my reputation precedes me," Revan interrupted, stepping forward and holding out her hand. She trusted this woman about as much as she trusted any Sith, but she did think Thaymina had _decent_ judgment. After all, she was descended from her. Hopefully _some_ of her good sense had leaked through — and perhaps some of Carth's paranoia. "I'm Revan."

Nkiruka hesitated, but took her outstretched hand. "I can feel your power," she said. "But it is difficult to believe your claim three hundred years after your disappearance."

"You have your friend the Emperor to thank."

She scoffed. "The Emperor is hardly _my_ friend."

"That's what I like to hear." Revan stepped back. "I doubt I can prove it to you, but I _am_ Revan. I mean —"

"No, no." She waved her hand. "Regardless of what logic dictates, I cannot deny the Force. If you are Revan, how did you survive?"

"I was imprisoned by the Emperor, out in the Maelstrom Nebula."

"Oh. Interesting."

"How so—"

"Excuse me," Thaymina interrupted. "While you two speak, might I talk to Ashara?"

The Twi'lek glanced at her companion and shook her head. "I take no issue with it."

Thaymina motioned to the Togruta with a warm smile. Ashara looked between her and Nkiruka — the latter nodded — and followed. "How is that interesting?" Revan repeated, leaning her hips back against a couch.

Nkiruka crossed her arms, shifting weight onto one leg. "At the very least, you concern the Emperor enough for him to keep you alive despite the expenditure of resources and power, which must have been sizable. We know remarkably little of his motives. I find it curious."

"Fair enough," Revan said. "It is. I even spent the last three centuries linked to his consciousness, and I don't know much about his plans." Nkiruka nodded, and Revan glanced at Carth. "So I hear there's a cult."

"Now that she knows that," Carth said. "I won't be able to handle her."

Nkiruka laughed. "There is, indeed, a cult," she confirmed. "The Revanites, on Dromund Kaas."

"They're _on_ the Imperial capital world?" She nodded. Carth shook his head. "Bet the Emperor loves that."

Revan snorted. "I can't imagine they're very popular."

"Not at all. There are a number of high-profile members, but it is all quite secretive."

"I'm surprised they know enough to _have_ a cult. It's my knowledge that my encounters with the Emperor were …" She glanced at Carth. "Kind of embarrassing for him."

"From my conversations with Master Galon, I am quite aware that they are _very_ misinformed. They believe you were male, for one, and that you killed the Emperor and took his place on the throne."

Revan laughed hard enough that she had to grab Carth's arm. He looked partially shocked, then gradually amused. "Really?" she asked.

"They certainly seemed convinced of it."

"Believe me, if I had, everyone would have known."

"That is what I suspected." Nkiruka laughed quietly. "Especially once I met Master Galon. Is it true you have mastery over the light _and_ the dark sides of the Force?"

Revan nodded.

"If you're going to talk shop, I'll look for those parts you wanted," Carth said. Revan nodded again, and he kissed her temple. "Yell if you need me," he murmured, glancing uneasily back at the Twi'lek. She frowned.

"I'll be fine, flyboy." Carth headed back towards the front room. Revan watched him leave. "Sorry," she said. "Carth is … well, he's Carth. He's not the most trusting."

"Who is?"

"True enough. But yes. I can use traditionally aligned powers with no physical toll. I'm still determining the extent — after all, it wasn't like I was practicing the last three hundred years — but it seems to apply to most."

"Amazing," Nkiruka said, rubbing her jaw. "Then they had at least one thing right — you are neither Sith or Jedi."

She waved her hand. "I find the division pedantic at best, and misguided at worst. They have more either wrong, or in common, than either side is willing to admit."

"Then how do you draw your power? If the Sith use emotion, and the Jedi discipl—"

"I cheat." She straightened, stretched her arm out, and effortlessly raised the room's central seating — a large, heavy table with two curved booths around it. "The reason is a matter of debate among every Master I've known — the Emperor was hardly different. Some is emotion, very little is discipline. My first Master called me the 'heart of the Force,' whatever that means. My last simply believed I benefited from a rawer connection to the Force than most … and an inclination to ignore rules.

"As for using both sides of the Force, perhaps it can be taught. If I ever figure out how _I_ do it, perhaps I could pass it on. That remains to be seen."

Nkiruka studied her curiously as Revan set the seating area back down. Normally, she would have been wary of trying to open a Sith up to her own personal Force philosophy — partially because her experiences, and her returned memories, made her especially wary around Sith; and partially because there was a heftier ideological difference making the gap between gray and dark wider than between light and gray. But there was something about this one, between her willingness to meet with a Jedi Master on the eve of war and her stated disregard for the usual hierarchy. Something that, Revan realized uncomfortably, reminded her a little of herself.

"And how did you end up a Sith?" she finally asked. "They aren't usually welcoming to non-humans and non-Purebloods."

"I did not have much of a choice. I was a slave before a Sith stumbled across me — I understand there was some expense involved in my _acquisition_. After that, it was a matter of survival — something I am particularly adept at. Watching racist Sith, civilians, and personnel stutter in my presence is a benefit."

Revan chuckled. "Good."

"There is much I could do in the Empire, for my people-" She motioned to herself. "—and others like them. I grew up in the Empire. There is much that could be salvaged, and much that could be reformed. I found myself in a position to do so."

That would be no small order. Revan pressed her lips together, nodded, and leaned back against the table. "Well. That won't be easy."

"Of course not."

"The Emperor would be especially displeased, I'd think."

"If the Emperor ever wishes to discuss the issue with me, he may. I have not allowed my underlings to enslave billions with no punishment, have I?"

Revan almost laughed. "I'd be careful what you wish for. As someone with first-hand experience 'discussing' things with the Emperor, it tends to be a one-sided conversation."

"Then I'll ensure he never knows the extent of my endeavors."

"Probably for the best, I—"

There was a shout from out by the terminals in the front room, and the thud of something hitting the ground. Revan spun with a swear and took two steps back towards the door. If they'd been followed — there was no telling what was out there, but Carth _was_ , and her hands dropped to her lightsabers. Something else fell over with a metallic _clang_ — probably one of the droids.

"—put that blaster _down_ , droid—" Carth yelled as she got closer.

"STATEMENT." Revan froze for half a second. No. It couldn't be — could it? "IF YOU ARE HERE, MEATBAG, THEN—"

She burst through the doors, Nkiruka hard on her heels. A large red, humanoid droid with prominent combat mounts was standing over Carth, an enormous blaster rifle in hand. Revan stopped in her tracks, not able to believe her own vision.

"HK?" she asked, an unintended waver in her voice. Both Carth's and the droid's heads snapped over towards them — the droid immediately trained his blaster on the Sith behind her, and Carth took the opportunity to scramble back to his feet.

"Warning: Master, there is a meatbag behind you," HK replied. "Allow me to delete it before—"

"No, no!" Revan waved her hands frantically as she started forward, then stopped in her tracks. It _was_ possible that this _wasn't_ HK. She'd built him to be robust, sure, but three hundred years was a long time for anything to survive in the galaxy unpreserved. This _could_ be something of the Emperor … she was certain he knew _of_ HK, could believe she'd trust him, and then… "HK-47, run diagnostic binary-seventy-six and report."

The droid straightened and lowered his gun, his eyes flashing repetitively. "Query: If an unladen thranta is traveling between House Organa and House Thul, how many times should the Emperor wipe his ass with a sheet of sandpaper?"

Revan grinned. Carth glanced back at the Twi'lek, her lips drawn up in a careful smirk. Thaymina appeared in the doorway behind them.

"I heard—" Her eyes widened, and she stepped out into the room. "Is that—"

"The number of rotations between binary solstices on Tatooine," she replied, stepping forward and gently lowering HK's gun.

"Statement: Master, it is _very_ good to see you again," the droid replied. "You are much more tolerable than the meatbags I was formerly forced to call that."

"How did you …" She waved her hand. "No, no, never mind, I honestly don't _want_ to know." Revan turned to Carth, her hand still on HK's gun. "You okay, flyboy?"

Carth dusted himself off with a frown. "I cannot believe that, of all the Force-forsaken things in this galaxy, _that_ survived."

"Hey!" Revan protested. " _That_ is my _favorite_ assassin droid, Carth Onasi." HK's head turned towards the pilot, and his emotionless features somehow seemed smug.

"Statement: Master," HK began, turning back to her. "My former masters sent me hunting you and the whiny meatbag, but upon arriving my primary data core has reactivated. Plea: I sincerely hope you do not plan to disappear again. Most of the meatbags I must refer to as 'master' do not appreciate my many talents as you do. Query: Might I also return to my former masters, and make them _exceptionally_ former?"

"Yes."

"No!" Carth hissed. Revan cleared her throat.

"Uh. No. Don't do that, actually." HK turned his head back towards Carth, then back at Revan. "HK-"

"Appeasement: Very well, Master, the insufferable meatbags may continue their fleshy lives."

Revan sighed and looked back to Nkiruka, who was now leaning back against the wall. "Sorry about that," she said. "HK is _very_ enthusiastic."

She shrugged, though she straightened and looked back at Thaymina. "Are you finished with my apprentice?"

"I am," Thaymina replied.

"I've told her she is free to leave whenever she wishes, if you were wondering."

"I thought as much."

Nkiruka nodded and turned back to Revan and Carth. "I am glad Master Galon allowed me to meet with you. It was quite an honor, and that is not something I say lightly."

"Be careful out there," Revan replied. "And, do me a favor — don't tell anyone you saw me."

There was the briefest flicker around the Twi'lek's lips, like she almost grinned. "I am not concerned with the Emperor's or Malgus' need for your head, I assure you. Ashara?"

"Here, my lord." The Togruta appeared behind Thaymina, who moved out of the way. Nkiruka nodded to Revan and Thaymina once again and started for the sky palace's speeder pad.

"You know," Revan said, looking back at Thaymina. "It strikes me as particularly un-Master-like to let a Padawan wander around with a Sith Lord."

Thaymina shrugged. "What can I say? I'm not a very good Master, and what the Council doesn't know will not hurt them. Ashara chose her direction. I simply gave her some advice — and my contact information."

"I knew I liked you for a reason," Revan said wryly. Carth frowned. "Don't look at me like that."

"I really don't think … that can't be safe."

"I'm not going to be a Jedi Master that forces others to follow the Code," Thaymina said. "Ashara made her choice and assured me that her mind was clear on the matter. Is it safe for her? No, but neither is it safe for me, or for her new master, or for anyone else in the galaxy. I am looking to build paths that may allow us to settle the matter diplomatically, however unlikely that is."

"Suggestion: Diplomacy is often inefficient," HK interrupted. "Blasting troublesome meatbags is always preferable."

"Thank you, HK," Revan said.

"Is it actually HK-47?" Thaymina asked. The droid bristled.

"Statement: I am the original, first-model HK-47. All inferior models have been deleted. Threat: Inquire again, and I might _delete_ a meatbag in this room."

"Right, forget I asked."

Revan sighed heavily. "Don't worry, HK. With the way this war is going to go, you'll have _plenty_ of meatbags to blast."

"Statement: You always know just what to say, Master."


	12. Death and the Jedi Council

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the best, and I love you. :) The good news is that this is something I've been dealing with for over a decade now, but I'm still digging myself out of my last major episode. It's slow going, but I'm finally at a point where I can post for people to read things - which is nice. Anyway, trying to get back into a regular update schedule. Should have posted this yesterday, but it was my day off and Stardew Valley was suddenly very important. Anyway, enjoy.

After he’d lost her for several hours, Carth found Revan hard at work in the Temple’s droid bay, a pair of goggles propped on top of her hair and her hands fist-deep in a scrapped T7-model chassis. He set the caf he was carrying down on a table nearby, leaning against the wall. He wasn’t sure she’d seen him, the tongue firmly caught between her teeth hinting at her focus. HK, standing in one corner of the droid bay with his eyes flickering, certainly _had_ seen him. The big red droid tapped his blaster threateningly.

“Is that for me or you?” she finally asked, hands resurfacing with a clump of fried wires.

“Huh?”

“The caf.”

“It’s mine.”

“Damn.” She tossed the wires aside and picked some replacements off a toolbox next to her knee. Carth nodded at the droid.

“What happened to it?”

“Flesh Raiders, apparently. Fried his electrical bits, memory, pretty much killed the poor little guy. Bad news for him, good news for me.” She looked up. “I’d told the droid bay to let me know if an Astromech chassis came up in decent condition, so I got first call. I just need to scoop out all the fried interior bits and install T3’s personality chip and memory core.”

“Oh.” Carth nodded. “Good.”

“Yeah.” She grinned. “It’ll be good to have him back around.”

“You’ve missed him.”

“Of course I have.” She wiped her hands off on her pants, and smudged a streak of grease on her forehead with the back of her hand. “It’s my fault he ended up just a memory core, after all.”

Carth crossed his arms and shifted on the wall. “You never said what happened.”

Revan sighed, working her hand back into the chassis. “We had a Sith ‘ally’ that helped me escape the Dark Councilor holding me prisoner on Dromund Kaas. He wanted a war with the Republic about as much as we did. But when we attacked the Emperor —”

“He turned on you.”

“Yeah. Surprise, surprise, right? I ended up fighting both him _and_ the Emperor at the same time — my back got turned on ol’ Empy once, T3 saw him going for an attack, and he shot at him. The Emperor destroyed him.” She shook her head. “It gave me the opening I needed to kill _that_ body, but it cost me T3. I’m not convinced it was worth it.”

Carth frowned, but didn’t answer.

“I’ll have to source better hardware on Coruscant,” she continued, wriggling her fingers elsewhere in the chassis. “The Jedi’s best hardware gets immediately installed on their field droids. And their targeting algorithms have always been subpar. The black market was really helpful though — thanks for that. That’s always where you find the best toys. The rest of it I might need to fabricate on my own.”

“How much are you going to sink into rebuilding him?”

“As much as I have to. T3 was essential when I was out past the Rim. There’s information in his core that isn’t available elsewhere, and—”

“You can pull it off the core.”

“You wound me with your mad suggestions,” she retorted. Carth chuckled.

“I’m not saying don’t rebuild him. I’m just saying you can get at the information without it, if you need it.”

“Could, yes. I’m not going to, though.” She leaned back on her heels again, studying her work. “That should do it for the motivators. The chassis should be completely capable of movement now.” Revan cracked her knuckles. “Now the important stuff. Hand me that box there?”

Carth glanced at his caf and picked up a box full of droid parts and second-hand upgrades. “Have you been collecting these? Is this where you’ve been disappearing to?”

“What? It’s not like I have anything else to do.” She got back to work. “A few Masters have me running sparring sessions with their Padawans, but no one’s going to let me anywhere near Force philosophy.”

“What, so they don’t learn something?”

She snorted. “You’re letting my bad attitude rub off on you, flyboy. Better be careful.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure my sparkling record will survive.”

“Hopefully.” She looked up. “Mind getting me some caf, flyboy? Or I’m going to steal yours.”

Carth chuckled and picked up his mug, starting out of the droid bay. He rubbed the top of her head as he passed, grinning at the grumbled “don’t” as he headed out the door. By the time he returned, the box was almost completely empty. Revan got to her feet, taking the new mug from him and joining him against one of the tables.

“How much more do you have left?”

“Uh, not much. I managed to get my hands on a micro-optics upgrade second-hand, but I’ve never _actually_ installed one, so that should be interesting. Then just the interface upgrade and a precision manipulator. Oh, and the visual projector. After that, the memory core and the personality chip, and he should be ready to go.” She sighed. “I hope he doesn’t remember what happened.”

Carth wrapped his arm around her, rubbing her bicep. “If he does, I’m sure he doesn’t regret it.”

“I’m … not entirely sure droids _can_ regret,” she mused. “I don’t think he’d be mad, though.”

“I don’t think droids get mad, either.”

“You’ve got me there.”

They stood quietly for a few, Revan leaning her head against Carth’s shoulder. HK made a couple of irritated clicking noises. “Is there anything I can do?” Carth finally asked.

“I’m sure I can find something,” she said, sipping her caf. “I certainly would like company. HK is not very chatty.”

“Objection,” the droid protested. “I simply do not understand why you must recreate this annoying trash bin, Master, when you have a perfectly functioning superior model.”

“He means himself,” she said.

“Yeah, I guessed.”

Revan set her mug down on the table. “Alright, back to work.”

It took about another hour for them to install the remaining components, and finally Revan and Carth fastened the top of the droid chassis. Carth stood, and she wiped grease off her forehead and nose. “Moment of truth,” she said. “You ready?”

“Definitely.”

Revan reached under T3’s chassis, finding the power switch and turning it on. Nothing happened for a moment.

“Hmm. Maybe I crossed a wire somewhere,” she mused, reaching for the droid. Its projector light flickered a few times, and she froze as the droid’s head raised. It swiveled, looking first at Carth before turning towards Revan.

“T3?” she whispered. The droid chirped happily and extended its manipulator arm, reaching out and petting her arm. Revan pressed the back of her hand into her mouth hard, choking back a sob, and threw her arms around the droid’s chassis. T3 turned his head towards Carth with a confused beep.

“She missed you,” he said.

The little droid whistled and swiveled back towards Revan, continuing to pet her arm. Revan pulled back, scrubbing her eyes with her sleeve.

“Do a diagnostic?”

He chirped again, and quickly responded with a series of beeps too fast for Carth to catch. Revan scrubbed her face again, nodding to each one. “Alright, little guy. Let me know if anything springs loose. It’s been a while, I’m worried I’m a little rusty.” He rocked back and forth on his struts and replied with a series of comforting chirps, and she got to her feet. “Want to take the new chassis for a spin? See how the T7-model compares to the T3?”

T3 chirped again and spun in a circle. Spotting HK in the corner he stopped, made a rude noise, and backed out of the room. Revan and Carth both laughed, and he reached forward and scrubbed a smudge of grease off her nose. She wrinkled it up. “Better?” he asked.

“Much.”

#

T3 took to his new body easily, and having the little Astromech following Revan around made the galaxy suddenly seem more _right_. She managed to find most of the upgrades she’d been looking for after a brief hunt on the Holonet, and they arrived on the next shipment to Tython. When Carth asked how she’d found credits for them, she got a little shifty-eyed and mumbled something about borrowing the money from Satele. He was extremely relieved when he cornered the Grand Master and she confirmed that Revan had _actually_ spoken to her about it, not just stolen them.

About a week and a half later, T3 was back to his former operating abilities — and if you believed Revan, he’d gotten a _lot_ of upgrades. The droid seemed happy with them, at least, and didn’t seem to remember anything from his meeting with the Emperor except a sudden loss of power. Revan admitted to Carth in private that she was relieved.

That afternoon, Carth was leaning against a tree outside the Temple watching her give a private lesson to an older Padawan. He knew she’d done this before leaving, but he’d never been able to watch -- so he was enjoying his newfound ability to see the inner workings of the Order first-hand. HK was still standing guard nearby, whirring threateningly at curious Jedi, with T3 chirping as he drilled a borehole in the tree to test a new analyzation matrix. Carth figured he probably shouldn’t let him do that.

“Alright,” Revan said, adjusting her student’s pose. The Nautolan held his arms where she put them studiously. “Now, have you been practicing your swings?”

“I have, Master Anna.” Carth turned a laugh into a cough when Revan half-heartedly glared at him.

“What have I told you about the master-ing? No one’s ever gonna make me a Master, believe me.” She circled around him. “Good! Good. Show me a couple swings.”

He did, and Revan took his arm. “Alright. The practice sabers are a little heavy, but when you have a lightsaber, you have to remember that the only weight is going to be in the hilt. Arm swings are alright, but most of the time you’ll only need your wrist or elbow until you get into full dueling. We’ll work on some blocks today, alright?”

Revan’s lessons were typically a half-hour in length, which she admitted was too short. But after the first couple days she’d ended up with nearly a hundred Padawans asking for lessons and somehow managed to cram most of them into twice a week. Once finished, she waltzed back over to Carth, rested her hands on his waist and bounced up to kiss him.

“Enjoying the show?” she murmured.

“You know I love watching you work.”

“True.” She rested her head on his chest with a sigh, closing her eyes.

“You alright?”

“Honestly?” she answered. “The Republic didn’t break out the stun cuffs as soon as they saw me, I don’t have to pretend I don’t love you, and the Council isn’t trying to control me. This might be the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Carth grinned and wrapped his arms around her. “How much longer before your next lesson?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

They stood in companionable silence for a while, T3 quietly chirping to himself and HK occasionally whirring threateningly.

“Hey, Carth?”

“Yeah, gorgeous?”

“Do you think, if I tried to jump from the balcony in front of the Council chambers—”

“Don’t—”

“— I could land on top of the floating holocron thing?”

“No, I definitely don’t think that.”

“Should I t—”

“No! Definitely not.”

She looked up at him, bottom lip thrust out. “You’re no fun.”

He was about to kiss her when he spotted someone approaching, and raised his head. “Mariamne.”

“Oh!” Revan pulled away from him and turned, waving her over. Mariamne trotted towards them, the man they’d met earlier on her ship in tow. “I wasn’t expecting you back for a few weeks.”

“We wrapped up on Hoth early, thank the Force.” Mariamne said. “You remember Doc, right?”

“Of course they do,” the man said, leaning on the side of the tree opposite HK. Mariamne stooped and rubbed T3’s head, and the droid chirped and rocked back and forth.

“Who’s this little guy?”

“T3-M4, model number two,” Revan said. “His personality matrix and memory core were with me in the Maelstrom. Finally managed to rebuild him last week.”

Mariamne chuckled and stood. “Uh, there is a reason I looked for you,” she said. “The Council’s sending us on a particularly dangerous mission, and I’m not entirely sure when we’ll be back—”

Revan’s eyes narrowed. “What type of ‘mission?’”

“I’m sure it’ll go fine.” Revan’s eyes narrowed further. “But I wanted to ask if I could spar you, since I don’t know when I’ll be back. And I was wondering if you might show me anything else useful.”

“Absolutely,” Revan said, starting back towards the training ring with Mariamne behind her. “Grab a couple practice sabers and we’ll get to work.”

They both picked up a couple, testing the weight in their hands, before taking up spots across from one another. Both raised their right saber to their foreheads and swept it back down.

“Should I go easy on you?”

“I’m one of the best duelists in the Order,” Mariamne said with a grin. “Don’t.”

Revan chuckled. “Suit yourself.”

With that, she threw her right training saber. Mariamne leapt to the side, then straight at her — Revan rolled back, grabbing her returning practice saber and blocking her next strike.

“Good,” she said, replying with her own strike. Mariamne blocked it. “I never learned how to do that.”

“It’s useful,” she replied. Revan blocked another swing, using the interruption to duck out of the way. The two women adjusted their grips and relaunched their assault.

Carth had seen Revan lose fights before — Malak had swept the floor with her once then nearly killed her on the Star Forge, and a number of Sith had overwhelmed her when they were captured by Karath on Korriban. But he’d never seen her _evenly_ matched, on her own terms. Overcome with brute strength or numbers, yes, but not fighting an opponent using the same light-footed, quick-acting strategy she did. Mariamne would strike, and Revan would simply be gone; then Revan would strike, and Mariamne would be absent.

It took only a matter of moments for nearby Jedi to notice the duel and hurry over, watching the women dance around one another. Carth glanced over at his companion, noticing the way Doc’s eyes were following the younger Jedi. He recognized that look -- it was _very_ familiar. “By the way,” he said. “The Jedi rules on attachments are annoying as hell.”

Doc chuckled. “Trust me, I’m aware.”

Mariamne swung her practice saber high, bringing it down on Revan’s head. Revan tapped the blade away, dancing back on her toes and returning with a low strike that her opponent arched around. “I’m impressed,” Revan said. “I’ve never met a Jedi who _actually_ can back up a boast like that.”

“Thanks,” Mariamne replied, swinging both practice weapons in quick succession. Revan launched herself backwards, springing away on her hands and back to her feet before responding with a powerful, bottom-to-top swing with both weapons. “I think.” Mariamne blocked, leaping out of the way.

She immediately pushed again, driving the younger woman towards the edge of the practice yard. Mariamne spun back, her back now towards the middle instead of the edge, and relaunched her attack. Revan dodged it, rolling back across the yard and coming up next to the weapons rack. She glanced at it, and came up with an idea. “You’re impressive,” she complimented, bringing her weapons into stance. “But do you want the full experience?”

Mariamne responded by bringing up her weapons into a stance that echoed Revan’s. “I’d expect nothing less.”

“Good!” Revan threw both her weapons at her opponent, who blocked them. With her hands free, Revan grabbed a pair of double-bladed practice sabers off the rack, swung them into position, and charged.

“What the f—” Mariamne started, dodging out of the way. Revan swung one blade over her head, slashing it down towards Mariamne’s shoulder, and bringing the other around her back towards her opponent’s arm. She immediately forced her to dodge again, and continued to press. Carth straightened against his tree.

“Is she doing what I think she’s doing?” Doc asked.

“I think so.”

Revan knocked one of Mariamne’s weapons aside, sweeping one of the two double-sabers towards her front. As she dodged, Revan swung the other weapon low, at the back of her knees. Her great-granddaughter stumbled, landing on her rear hard, and Revan placed the tip of the other at her throat.

“I cannot _believe_ — _two_ doubles?”

Revan laughed and dropped the one, helping Mariamne back to her feet. A few of the Jedi — mostly Padawans, probably — clapped, and she was sure a couple of the older Jedi mumbled to themselves unhappily, and the crowd slowly dispersed. “I have to keep myself entertained somehow.” She dropped the other weapon to the practice yard with a clatter. “It’s not as easy as it looks, I assure you.”

“I’d assume not.” Mariamne grinned, retrieving one of the sabers and pressing it to her forehead. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Revan rested her hand on Mariamne’s arm. “What mission are they sending you on?”

Immediately, the younger Jedi grew cagey again. “I can’t really say. It’s highly classified.”

“Don’t give me that,” she replied.

“The Council asked for me specifically,” Mariamne replied sharply. Revan frowned.

“Who did?”

“Master Braga.” Revan’s frown deepened. She remembered that Braga had shown interest — too _much_ interest — in her experience with the Emperor … and had then never spoken to her again.

Revan lowered her voice. “Just tell me one thing,” she asked. “Does this have something to do with the Emperor?”

It took Mariamne a few moments to answer. “I can’t say.”

That _feeling_ took place in her gut -- it was enough. “Listen to me. Get out of this mission. Don’t follow through.”

“I’m not going alone,” she insisted. “Braga is coming, as are two other Jedi Masters. It will be more than enough.”

“No,” Revan said. “If you’re doing _anything_ with the Emperor, a hundred Jedi Masters will not be enough. Listen to me, Mariamne.”

“I will take it under advisement.”

Revan shook her head. “No, you won’t. You’re related to me, after all. I just … be _smart_ about this, Mariamne. You saw where the Emperor was keeping me. You’ve heard me talk about him. I don’t know what insanity Braga’s gotten into his head, but it won’t end well. You don’t have to go down with him.”

“I’ll be _fine_ ,” she said, a cocky smile creeping onto her face. Revan threw her hands up.

“It’s like you’re descended from some rule-breaking monster,” she complained.

“I trust the wisdom of the Council. They would not send us on this mission if they didn’t think we’d be successful.”

“Give it time,” Revan said. “They’ll do something to rub that shiny glow off. Believe me, only two things in this galaxy are certain - death, and the Jedi Council frakking up.”

Mariamne nodded. “Again, I’ll keep that under advisement.”

Revan shook her head as Carth and Doc joined them. “Carth, she’s definitely ours.”

“How so?”

“She’s more stubborn than a bantha.”

Mariamne snorted as her comm rang. When she answered it, Braga appeared over the disk. :: _I need to speak with you, if you’re quite finished._ ::

“I’ll be right there, Master Braga.” She sighed and closed the call, looking up. “I guess duty calls.”

Revan nodded. “Just … remember what I said.” Mariamne nodded and turned on her heel, tossing the two practice sabers onto the rack as she started back towards the Temple. Doc shook his head.

“She hasn’t told us what stupid idea the Council’s gotten into their heads,” he said. “I don’t like it, though.”

“That makes two of us,” Revan said, staring after the knight.

“Three of us,” Carth mumbled. Revan didn’t trust the Council, that he knew, but she usually wouldn’t advocate someone else outright challenging them — or refusing to follow an order — without a damn good reason.

“Three of us,” she corrected, finally turning to Doc. “I’m assuming you’re a medic.”

“A doctor, thank you.”

“I don’t know what idiot idea the Council’s gotten into their heads, but I’m about eighty percent sure it involves someone it shouldn’t. If it even _looks_ like the mission is going south, you have my permission to drug her off her ass, drag her back onto her ship, and get the hell out of there. Am I clear?”

He replied with a sideways grin as he started towards the Temple. “Honestly, I would have tried that _without_ your permission, but yes.”

As the training yard cleared and Carth and Revan were left alone, he glanced at her. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m _thinking_ that Braga is planning on going after the Emperor,” she muttered, lost in thought.

“What?! You don’t think …” If Revan was right — and he suspected she was, if the man had taken her out the way she described — then they _would_ need a lot more than three Masters and a young knight to even make a dent. “You don’t think the Council would be that stupid, not after everything you’ve told them.”

Revan replied with a short, barking laugh, turning back towards their droids. “It’s the Council, Carth,” she replied. “Their great plan for ending the Jedi Civil War was mind-wiping my unconscious ass and teaching me how to love, essentially. If they are — well, they can’t let a Sith like the Emperor sit around unchastised, can they?” She sighed. “I just don’t want the Emperor to get his wrinkly little hands on … it doesn’t matter.”

He gently rested his hand on her arm. “On what?”

“On one of our descendants. If Mariamne is enough like me …” She shook her head. Spotting a Padawan walking towards the yard, Revan waved Carth towards T3. “Duty calls, Carth.”

“If she’s enough like you…?” he asked. Revan shook her head again.

“If she’s enough like me, he might get what he wants anyway.”


	13. This May Have Been, in Some Manner or Form, Something Akin to a Mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, as they say, some excrement hits the rotating air flow device.

Revan reached for the bottle of water at Carth's side as she flopped down on the grass by her training ring. It had been about a week since they'd spoken to Mariamne, and a little over three standard months since the Maelstrom mission. Every day brought news of increased tensions between the Republic and the Empire, signs of an impending war in no hurry to begin.

"Carth," she said finally. "I think I'm getting too old for this."

He scowled, self-consciously touching a graying streak in his hair. "Don't even start. You're thirty-six."

She laughed and touched the streak. "It makes you look distinguished, Carth." He grumbled. "I like them."

"Oh? In that case…" Revan laughed again and laid back, throwing her arm over her eyes.

"Gotten anything from Command?"

Carth picked up his datapad, scanning it again. "No. The last I heard was that Intelligence was getting rumblings the Empire would be declaring war soon, but that was it."

"Ugh." She sighed. "Wish they'd just do it already. Waiting around is almost worse than actually fighting."

"You can feel it coming." He shrugged. "It's better than coming out of nowhere, at least."

"Yeah," she agreed.

Carth looked up as he set his datapad back down. "Thaymina."

Revan groaned and rolled back to her feet as the woman stopped. "Revan, Carth," Thaymina said warmly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you get up."

"No, no, don't worry about it." Revan straightened out her robes. "How are you?"

"I … could be better." Her brow furrowed. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Shoot."

"We — by that, I mean I — just learned of a new phenomenon that is now, apparently, _my_ responsibility. Since you know the Emperor, I was wondering if you might be familiar with it."

Revan crossed her arms, leaning heavily on one leg. "I might."

"The Emperor's Children."

Carth got to his feet when the color quickly drained out of Revan's face. "Anna? What is it?"

"I—"

"I'm fine," Revan said, straightening her shoulders. "I just … was kind of hoping he'd made that up. I doubt I know much more than the Council does."

"There's apparently a former one among the Order."

"Only one?"

"Mari's padawan, according to Satele."

"Kira? Huh." Revan shook her head. "I'll tell you what I know, but it's not much."

"Anything may help."

"There's a lot of them. The Emperor had them stolen from their families as infants and did Force-knows-what with them. He created a link between himself and them that … allows him to possess them at will. Most aren't aware of it. He had them sent out and put into positions to infiltrate the Republic — that's why I asked if there was _only_ one known in the Jedi. I guarantee there are more, plus ones in the Senate, the military, probably the SIS. Major merchant organizations like Czerka, I believe, several Imperial organizations as well as the Imperial military. It's part of how he wields his influence over the Empire without being seen."

"Do you have any idea who might be among them?"

She shook her head. "Sadly, no. I know they're all shielded from the Jedi via the First Son, but I have no idea who that might be."

"Yes, the title's come up."

"How did—"

"The Alliance I'm working with? One of its members was a Child. He was feeding the Empire information to destabilize our negotiations."

"That sounds about right." Revan rested her chin on her hand.

"You said they were linked to his mind?" Carth said. She nodded. "Anna, if you're …"

She laughed and shook her head. "No, no, the Emperor's not about to possess me, don't worry. It's a different type of link. If one of us exerts enough will we might chat, but that's it. I'm going to stay in one-hundred percent control of my own faculties, thanks."

"That's a relief."

"I'm sorry I can't tell you more," she said. Thaymina shook her head.

"No, no, it's fine. I didn't know if you'd have any more information or … not." Thaymina swayed on her feet, furrowing her brow. Carth reached out to steady her.

"Are you—"

"I'm … fine?" She shook her head, steadying herself on his arm. "I don't know where that dizzy spell came from."

"Should you lie down?" Revan asked.

Thaymina shook her head. "No, no, I should be —" She trailed off, and Carth and Revan watched as her eyes rolled back in her head, and she shrieked in pain as she clutched at Carth's arm. He caught he as her knees buckled, and carried her to the ground as she began convulsing.

"Get one of the medics," he barked. Revan nodded and turned for the Temple, breaking into a sprint.

Halfway across her training ring, her defenses shattered. Pain slammed into the back of her eyes, and she stumbled to the ground with a cry. She felt _him_ again, sweeping into her mind, smug and self-satisfied as usual. Darkness crept into the edges of her vision, nausea burning in her chest as she scrabbled on the ground for something, anything to anchor herself.

"Master A—" someone started, a distant call that she tried to latch onto.

"Statement—" She reached out and grabbed onto HK's metal leg, gripping it like a lifeline as the ground in front of her disappeared.

What appeared in its place was a long throne room, not unlike the one she'd destroyed his first Voice in. Different, though — outside the door she could see a long viewport, clearly marking it as a station. Her eyes slid back to the front, and her heart stopped.

Mariamne was picking herself onto her hands and knees, surrounded by a few immobile, robed forms she couldn't recognize through her tunnel vision. Her great-granddaughter was panting heavily, one hand pressed into her side, brow furrowed and hair coming out of a thick braid. A hand raised — the current Voice's, she assumed — and the room filled with the bright purple of Force lightning, sending Mariamne convulsing back to the ground with a scream.

_Do you see this, Revan?_ he asked. _She is_ _ **just**_ _like you, isn't she? It was very rude of you to not admit you had offspring._

"Let. Her. Go," Revan snarled. He chuckled.

_Oh, no, I don't think so. She seems to have inherited your … tolerance. Since I lost you, perhaps she will be a suitable replacement. Perhaps_ _**she** _ _will serve, where you did not._

"If she's anything like me, she'll resist," Revan growled. The lightning ended and Mariamne collapsed to the floor, a trembling mess of brown robes and red hair. Vitiate lowered his hand.

_We shall see._

Revan snapped back to Tython as the dark edges of her vision retreated, the sight of her great-granddaughter fading back to the bright midday sunlight. She forcibly uncurled her hand from HK's leg and pushed herself onto her knees, wiping wetness away from her upper lip and finding a streak of blood on her hand.

The thing that frightened her about her rage — the times where she was actually, truly, angry — was that it was empty, cold. It burst out of her chest, chilling the rest of her body, an implacable frost she had to fight for control. She rose to her feet in one smooth motion, ignoring the medic trying to speak to her. She looked back and found Thaymina surrounded by a small army of Jedi healers, and her eyes met Carth's. He took two steps towards her as he paled, realizing —

And she turned on her heel and stormed towards the Temple, her jaw clenched and her hands balling and unballing.

By the time she hit the Temple, she had cut a wide swath through the training Jedi and Padawans, and forced more than one hand to a lightsaber. Just outside the doors she spotted a recognizable Master, and stormed towards him.

"Where's the Council?" she demanded. He stammered, hand resting unsubtly on his weapon.

"I … think they're in a meeting?"

Revan left him and strode up the ramp, that indeterminate blinding rage building in the back of her head. She had known - _Force_ , she had _known_ that they had some poorly-planned idea in mind, but she hadn't thought they would head _straight_ for him. She should have expected it - the Jedi had never been subtle - but to completely disregard her? To ignore her? And then to send her _own_ child straight into the Emperor's arms? To give him at least _half_ of what he wanted? To send one of their best into what she _personally_ knew would be a hell like no Jedi alive had experienced?

She had calmed herself a little by the time she hit the top of the ramps, slamming both hands and the Force into the large double-doors leading to the Council chambers and making them bounce off the walls. The present members of the Council got to their feet as she hardly broke stride.

"Revan, we are bus—" Satele started, as her hand fell to her saber.

"How _dare_ you?" Revan demanded, moving her hand and sweeping the chairs on the closer half of the table aside. "How dareyou send her _straight_ at him? What the _fuck_ were you thinking?"

"What are you talking about?" Kaedan's lightsaber was already in his hand, but unlit. She didn't care.

"You sent _my_ granddaughter straight at the _godsdamned Emperor!_ After I _told_ you — I _told_ you! _Ehotl manchur hirlan_ , what were you trying to do?"

"We sent Braga and Knight Galon to cap—"

"You sent them to _capture_ him?" She thought she'd descended towards calm, but that made another wave of rage explode in her chest. "You fucking sent them to _cap-ture_ the most powerful Force user in the godsdamned _galaxy_?After I told you there was only _one_ way to deal with him, you completely ignored my kriffing advice on _principle_?" One of the chairs she'd thrown aside spun and crashed into a wall, cracking in half.

"You need to calm down," Satele said, placating. "Or —"

"Don't even _start_ with me!" she snapped, had raised accusingly. "I am the closest thing to a _fucking_ expert you have on the Emperor and you ignored _everything_ I said! Do you even know what you've done, you vacuous, di'kutla sof'lamya! You _sent_ him exactly what he _wants_!"

"How do you even know—"

"He _showed_ me, usen'ye. He _showed me_." There was a sudden change in the atmosphere — whatever they were expecting, that answer likely wasn't it. Satele's shoulders sank as she glanced back at the others, just enough for Revan to notice. "He can't dominate her, so you know what he's going to do, right? _Do you_?" When no one spoke she raised her hand, and another chair sailed into a wall. At least one Councilor flinched. "He's going to _torture_ her. Do you understand that? Is that something you can compre _fucking_ hend? That's what he _does_. That's what he did to _me_ , and now he'll do it to her! And who's _fault_ that is? You say you value my fucking expertise and this is what you do with it? If you'd _listened_ to me this wouldn't have happened! This is entirely on _your_ heads, I—"

Someone gently touched her arm. She almost whirled before she recognized the presence, and Carth gently whispered her name as his other hand came to rest on her back. Revan closed her eyes, drawing several long, slow breaths in through her nose as she pushed her anger back down, hard. Finally she opened her eyes and raised her head.

"Fix it," she said, coolly, raising her hand again. "Fix it, or I will."

"Revan—"

"Considering the _Council_ believes they can get by without my opinion, I will return to Coruscant and work full-time with Command," she continued, just as coldly. "After this brazen attack, the Empire is certainly going to declare war. Good job. You frakked it up for everyone. I hope you're very proud." She turned on her heel and took several steps for the door.

"Revan—" Satele started again.

"Nar'sheb," she spat back, disappearing through the door. The chairs, still levitating a couple inches in the air, dropped with a loud clatter. Carth glanced back at the Council.

"Admiral—" Kaedan started. Carth shook his head.

"I heard enough," he interrupted, brow furrowing. "Good to see the Jedi Council never changes."

The path Revan cut through the sea of Jedi and Padawans was still visible as he jogged after her, following her outside. Eventually he found her by the river, throwing rocks into the water as hard as she could manage. T3 chirped nervously behind her, rocking back and forth on his struts.

"Anna?" Carth asked quietly. She lifted another rock about the size of her fist and hurled it into the water in the middle of the river.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she mumbled, though it came out as more of a growl. She threw another rock.

"Don't you think you were a _bit_ hard on them?"

"No."

"Anna—"

"No, Carth," she snapped, whirling back. He winced and she sighed, raising her hands.

"Carth," she started quietly. "We knew before I left that whatever happened to me was bad. The dreams I had when I was pregnant with Nova just …" He nodded. "When I got my memories back, I remembered it all. All of it, every second of those two weeks. And I…" Her shoulders sagged. "If he does to her even _half_ of what he did to me, I swear, Carth, I will find him. And this time? I won't let him escape."

He shook his head. "You wrecked half of the Council chamber. You know what they could do to you."

She laughed humorlessly. "What, cut me off from the Force and maroon me on some asteroid? They could try."

"Anna, it's just —"

"I lost control, Carth, I'm sorry." Revan sighed. "I … haven't been that angry in a long time. Last I was, Malak lost his jaw. I just — _ugh_." She moved her hand and hurled another rock without looking. "They say they value my expertise, my experience, my information, and then they completely refuse to _include_ me in planning that would _benefit_ from that? They thought they could just _waltz right in_ , Carth, right through the front door. Say pretty please and the Emperor would come quietly like a good little Sith and submit to the Council for rehabilitation. This man eats worlds for power, his moral compass is already broken. And he _hates_ the Jedi. Quite frankly, I can see why.

"No one ever takes me seriously. This is why I went with the mask to begin with." She threw another rock. "The only way they ever notice me is if I lose my temper. And I fucking hate it."

She heard him sigh heavily, then felt his arms curl around her waist. Carth rested his chin on her head gently, staring at the river. "Alright. What's your plan?"

"Huh?"

"Someone around here has to take you seriously, don't they? You must have an idea."

Revan stared at the water for a few more moments.

"I think I need to talk to Bastila."


	14. The Foundry

As Revan and Carth reentered the Temple, conversation on the lower level ground to a stop. She felt the eyes on her as she headed up the ramp, but did not acknowledge them. The Council _had_ been wrong — it was important for them to realize that, even if she had lost her temper in rather spectacular fashion.

She was typically much better at staying calm though, like always, her anger bubbled right under the surface.

They cut through to the holorecords and she beelined for Katherion, the Cathar suddenly growing very interested with the sleeve of his robe.

“The Noetikons?” she asked. He motioned for the door. “Thanks.”

The chamber hadn’t changed at all, with the rebuilt console and the three holocrons sitting quietly in their places. Carth turned on the light as T3 and HK joined them, and closed the door behind the two droids. Revan picked up the last Noetikon and set it on the ground gently, closing her eyes briefly as she got back to her feet.

The three Masters contained inside stopped talking as soon as they appeared. Bastila waved her hand. “It looks like a private call again.”

“Very well.” The other two disappeared. As soon as they did, Revan sighed.

“Bas, I frakked up.”

“Oh, _no_.”

“The Council sent one of them right into the Emperor’s hands. Right like he wanted them to!” She started pacing, waving her hands wildly. “And _she’s_ immune to his mind control, too! And now he has her, and he’s doing … he’s doing Force-knows-what.”

“They didn’t include you in the planning?”

“No.”

“That seems deficient.” Bastila shook her head. “Anna … how bad was it?”

“I broke two chairs and the entire Temple is afraid of me.” The hologram drew her fingers together across her eyes. “I _know_ ,  I need to be better, but … Bas?”

“Yes?”

“What Malak did to you …” She looked away at the far wall. “He got some of it from what was done to me, by the Sith.” Bastila’s face softened immediately. “I don’t want her to go through that. The Emperor is _terribly_ skilled at breaking Jedi—”

“Going after her is not an option,” she said. Revan nodded.

“Why not?”

They both looked back at Carth. “Because I’m not stupid. There's a significant chance that he showed me hoping I’d come running after her,” Revan said. Bastila nodded agreement.

“Right," he said. "That makes sense.”

“But I _know_ you are coming to talk because you have a plan,” Bastila continued. Revan nodded again.

“T3?” The droid rolled forward and chirped happily at Bastila, who waved at him. T3’s optic grew slightly brighter and he projected an image of a large space station, carved into an asteroid.

“This is the Foundry,” Revan said, motioning at the image. Carth stepped closer, one hand rubbing his jaw. “It’s another Rakatan factory, like the Star Forge, but it only makes droids. I found coordinates for it and several other Rakatan factories in the Star Forge’s computers, but erased the information. So it’s only up here.” She tapped her forehead. “Safety measures, so I’d have backups whenever Malak or the Emperor tried to get rid of me. The Jedi memory block kept me from finding them after the attack on my flagship.”

“Hm.” Bastila rubbed her chin. “If this _is_ another Rakatan factory, it will run on the dark side.”

“It’s true. I mean, I have some theories on whether a Rakatan factory can _only_ use it, or if they're powered off the Force and we only ascribe alignment to it, or something else, but that’s beside the point. The point is, even _one_ factory like this could easily turn the tide of the war.” She sighed. “That’s why I had to come talk to you.”

Bastila’s eyes narrowed. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing, at the moment. Something like this —” She motioned at the projection. “— could easily be misused. I did it with the Star Forge, and nearly wrecked the Republic. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with something this powerful … but I can't trust _myself_ again, either.” Bastila was quiet, staring up at the ceiling.

Carth frowned. “You said it might not run on the dark side? Is there a way to, I don’t know,  change that?”

“There might be. I don’t know.”

“Would it help?” he asked.

“I think the Republic needs all the help it can get. I need a way to make some good long-range probe droids to see if these other coordinates are accurate. But I don’t trust something like this to most Jedi or military. That was part of the problem with the Star Forge.” Bastila nodded silently, still studying the ceiling.

“You said that before," Carth continued. "What—”

“So I’m not convinced that the Rakatan factories don’t run on the Force, alone,” she explained. “You know I disapprove of the Jedi notion that the Force has any sort of alignment. If anything, I think the Force is neutral, and I _certainly_ hope it doesn’t guide the universe, because that means it’s a spiteful bitch and we should all be afraid. But — it's possible, with the Star Forge, that intentions clouded the energy itself.

“The Rakata used it to build an empire built on slave labor and genocide — obviously dark side material. When I found it, I was angry. I wanted revenge. Malak was simply driven mad with power, possibly based on how it had been used before. But I wonder … the robes I pulled off it, when we destroyed the factory, were imbued with the ‘light side.’ Jolee said so. How could a dark-sided facility produce that?”

“That’s a good point,” Bastila murmured.

“I thought so. The use of the factories may have tilted them towards the dark side, rather than being dark side to begin with. That likely colored Rakatan tech for millennia, given that the Star Maps also gave off the same feeling.” They both nodded. “It may be that there’s a way to avoid the factories from going too far. I don’t know, and I won’t be able to test my hypothesis until I’m there.”

“What do _you_ think?” Bastila asked. Revan looked away. “Do the benefits to using the Foundry outweigh the risks?”

“Yes,” Revan replied instantly.

“Then why are you hesitating?”

Revan was quiet, staring at the floor and rubbing her mouth. Carth looked at Bastila.

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“I _think_ that I trust her more than she trusts herself,” Bastila replied.

“Bastila, the last time anyone trusted me with anything, billions of people died and at _least_ two planets got destroyed. Three and a quarter, if we count Taris and Dantooine.”

She shook her head. “You aren’t _listening_ to me. You are rash, impulsive, extremely annoying, and stubborn to a fault. When I first learned of our bond, I immediately hated you. But what I grew to realize was that your worst fault, and greatest strength, are none of those — it’s that you care too deeply, and you carry the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders. That is why our entire crew rallied around you after they found out — even Carth.”

Revan glanced over at him, and he nodded.

“You’re worried about taking it too far again. I understand. But you have never let that stand between you and what _must_ be done. I agree that this task must not be left to another … but you would not be an improper choice.”

“Even though I’d just —”

“You won’t ‘frak it up,’” Bastila said irritably. Revan snorted despite herself, and even Carth coughed into the back of his hand. “Children.”

“Hey!” Revan protested.

“You are stronger now than you ever have been. As long as you keep your anger in check, which you are usually proficient at doing, you will be fine. Otherwise, I suspect you will listen to Carth’s input, won’t you?”

“What about it, flyboy, you mind being used as a moral compass?”

He curled his arm around her shoulders. “What, exactly, would you be doing with it?”

“War droids, primarily. Big heavy tank droids, smaller, lighter infantry, keeping our organic soldiers off the frontlines. Medical droids, some infiltration astromechs for my own purposes, probe droids, that sort of thing. Command said they needed more support droids, so that would be the focus after the battle droids. Maybe a couple more HK models.”

“Hm.” Carth shook his head. “No more HK models.”

"Hesitant Agreement: The meatbag is correct. I will simply be forced to eliminate any potential competitors."

Revan frowned. “Fine. But I get to make upgrades to 47. He needs some new hardware.”

“I suppose that’s fair.” He sighed dramatically, and she elbowed him. “Alright, alright, I’ll do it.”

“Then it’s decided?” They nodded. “Very well. Keep me updated, and Anna?”

“Yeah, Bas?”

“ _Try_ to stay out of trouble?”

Revan laughed. “No promises.”

#

“You know you _should_.”

Revan sighed, staring at the door in front of her. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Except lose my temper.”

“Anna…”

“You’re absolutely incorrigible,” she grumbled, raising her hand and rapping the door. After a few seconds, there was a click and it slid open.

“Revan,” Satele said coolly.

“Alright,” Revan replied, glancing back at Carth. He waved his hand. “Fine. Look, I’m sorry I lost control earlier and nearly wrecked the Council chambers. I’m _not_ sorry about what I said, but I _am_ about the blatantly irresponsible actions that went along with said statements.”

Satele stuck her head out into the hallway and checked for eavesdroppers, then motioned them inside. Revan waved for HK and T3 to stay outside, and Satele closed the door behind them.

“Tol Braga was the leader of the mission to capture the Emperor,” Satele said as she moved towards her desk. “I was against his decision to not include you in planning, but I deferred to him. Had I known the mission would go so poorly, I would have exercised my authority in the matter. For what it is worth, I am sorry I did not.”

“Have you tried to contact him?”

“Yes.” She leaned on her desk. “We’ve attempted to reach all of them. We sent three Masters — Braga among them — with Mariamne. All four commlinks are dead, as is the one to Mariamne’s ship.”

Revan sighed. “Damn. I was hoping he was just being an ass.”

“What, exactly, did you see?” Revan raised a brow. “I must know how to proceed. Apart from the Masters we sent, Mariamne is one of our best knights. I’d prefer to locate her.”

She relayed her vision — what Vitiate had said, whether there was anyone else in the room, how Mariamne had looked. Satele listened quietly, making notes on a datapad. “I’ll check with our notes. Would you go after her yourself?”

She shook her head. “There is a chance Vitiate showed me to lure me there. I … I want to, but I can’t take that risk.”

“I understand. I will do what I can.”

“How is Thaymina?” Carth asked. Satele shook her head.

“We have known for some time that Mariamne and Thaymina possess a Force bond of an odd strength,” she explained. “They are actually _stronger_ when they work together, as if one’s presence strengthens the other. Sometimes it seems as if they carry the _same_ connection to the Force, simply shared between two people. Unfortunately in this case, I suspect that will be a detriment.”

“Thaymina may be feeling what is happening to her sister,” Revan said. Satele nodded.

“That happened a little with you and Bastila,” Carth said. “You would wake up screaming.”

She nodded. “I’ll visit her before we leave to present our idea to Command. I may be able to help.”

Satele arched her brow, setting her datapad down. “You were not lying about leaving, then?”

“…yes and no,” Revan answered, with a look at Carth. “I may have a lead on something that could help the Republic war effort. A lost Rakata droid factory that was part of the reason the Emperor kept me alive.”

“Well. I wish you luck,” Satele answered. “I would understand if you did not want our help, but know that I, at least, welcome you to Tython whenever you return.”

“I sense you don’t speak for the rest of the Council,” Carth said. Satele shook her head.

“I cannot say I was _pleased_ with your outburst, Revan, but I recognize that your usefulness far outweighs your risks. The others are not so convinced. They wanted you … placed into confinement. I informed them that the _last_ time you were confined, you nearly destroyed the Coruscant archives and encouraged havoc among Initiates. That seemed to settle it. I cannot guarantee that we will allow such a confrontation again.”

“Trust me, I’m hoping there won’t be an _again_. If this works out, we’ll be safely out of your hair.”

“I am putting considerable faith in you. Do not make me regret it.”

“Don’t worry. As long as Kaedan doesn’t start with the Service Corps routine, we’ll be fine.”

Satele had opened her mouth to reply when her holocomm chirped wildly. She picked it up from the desk and answered the call, and Supreme Commander Rans appeared above the disk.

:: _Grand Master?_ ::

“Yes? What is it?”

:: _It’s time._ ::

She sighed heavily. “I will begin making preparations and we will meet you on Coruscant as soon as possible.” Rans hung up, and Satele started towards the door. “I would continue this discussion, but time has become very short.”

“What happened?” Carth asked.

“The Republic is once again at war.”


	15. The Disclosure

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’d ask to speak to you _now_ , after spending a couple months ignoring your calls.”

The collection of aides and multiply-starred officers didn’t seem amused. Revan coughed awkwardly into her hand.

“Anyway,” she continued. “Recent events that will remain unnamed have encouraged me to apply my skill somewhere other than the Jedi. That said, I have what I believe is one of many answers to the resumption of Imperial aggression. T3, if you would.”

T3 chirped and rolled forward, tilting back his head and opening his projector. The Foundry appeared above him, a station carved into a large asteroid, slowly rotating in front of them. Several officers straightened.

“This is the Foundry,” Revan said. “Many of you will have passing knowledge of the Rakata factory used by _my_ Sith Empire in the Jedi Civil War — the Star Forge.” There were several nods. “This is one of many _other_ Rakata factories scattered throughout the galaxy — the only one that I know is both intact and operational. While this one is not quite as powerful as the Star Forge, and dedicated only to droid production, it would create a massive amount of droids to assist in the war effort.”

“And you waited until now to bring it up?” Revan had held a few passing conversations via holo with the current Supreme Commander, Rans, during her time on Tython. He was a decent sort, and a good commander, and she liked him well enough. He scratched idly at a spot on his temple. “We could have—”

“It was only _now_ I decided that the benefits outweighed the risks,” she interrupted. “The last time someone mucked about with a Rakata factory, it nearly destroyed the Republic. I won’t know how safe this one is until I’m there, but it may be what the Republic needs.”

 “And if the Star Forge made _you_ nearly destroy the Republic once, how can you assure us that you will not do the same thing again?” The asker was an older female general that Revan vaguely remembered was involved with SpecOps, a General Garza.

“I can’t,” she said simply. “I suspect it won’t, for several reasons. For one, I’m no longer gunning to turn the Republic into a war machine, by force if necessary.” In the back of the room, Carth shifted uncomfortably in his chair. She met his eyes and cleared her throat again. “And for two, my command and knowledge of the Force has grown exponentially since the time I stumbled across the Star Forge. You will need a Force Sensitive to determine how dangerous this place is and, unless you decide to risk someone without a quarter of my experience, I’m the best you'll get.

“I believe the negative energy on the Foundry — the same type that was on the Star Forge — can be cleared, a sort of reset of the area in the Force. Again, I won’t know until I’m there, and I doubt most of you would understand the minutia. You know. Jedi shit.”

“How many droids could this thing produce?” Rans again. She nudged T3.

“Star Forge readouts, if you would.” T3 chirped and produced a chart. “The first month that Malak and I were in possession of the Star Forge, we produced a combined number of ships and droids totaling close to one-point-six million.” A couple generals muttered to each other. Carth rested his hand on the side of his face. No wonder the Sith assault on Foerost had caught them completely off-guard. “The second, once we were more fully in command of the station, we produced close to five. On a factory dedicated solely to droids, I’d estimate that the first month would produce close to three million, and subsequently totals in the tens of millions.”

“That is certainly a lot of droids,” Rans murmured, glancing at Garza.

“The Star Forge, and thus the Foundry, could produce several different types of droid at once on multiple production lines,” she continued. “We could produce both medical and combat-ready models simultaneously, for instance, or long-range probe droids, or infiltration astromechs.”

“Infiltration astromechs?”

“If you haven't realized, no one notices these guys.” Revan set her hand on T3’s head, and he chirped. “The possibilities for a factory like this are nearly infinite. Rakata factories use limited resources and produce limitless items. I’m confident that the Foundry may end the war within a much shorter time frame than anticipated.”

“And what would you need from Command? Obviously this is the purpose of this meeting, and _our_ resources are not _limitless_.” Garza again.

“A factory like this would be very attractive to the Empire,” Revan replied with a frown. “In _their_ hands, it would definitely destroy the Republic. There would need to be a small fleet dedicated to the protection of the Foundry — ideally answering to me, simply for ease of command. One Expeditionary should be sufficient, at least until we know what we have. Once this place gets on the Imperial radar, we may need more. 'Resources permitting,' of course.” She directed that to Garza, whose frown deepened. “Prefabs for some type of construction situated right outside the Foundry entrance. As this place may be dangerous, I’d prefer to limit its effect. A small scientific team, a small crew of military forces in case of boarders.

“As for shipments, I’d prefer to limit them as much as possible. It decreases the chances of the Empire tracking a ship to the Foundry.”

“Will they?”

“I have a feeling I know who the Emperor will put in charge of locating the Foundry, and he does not cut corners. The fact that I found the Star Forge, and that I know the Foundry’s location, are hardly coincidence — I was sent after the Star Forge and the other Rakata factories. I erased the location of the other factories from the Star Forge’s computers, leaving it here.” She tapped her forehead. “And that is one reason he kept me in stasis for so long. The Emperor wants this place, and the other facilities, rather badly.”

Rans tapped his stylus against his datapad. “Did he ever—”

“No.”

They were quiet for a while, several members of Command making notes and aides making notes about their notes.

“And you can guarantee that your use of the Foundry will not endanger the Republic, as the Star Forge did?” Garza again. Revan met Carth’s eyes over their heads.

“Believe me, my desire to see the Emperor surrounded by the ashes of everything he’s built hasn't changed — but I’m older, smarter, and much less devastated. I will not endanger the Republic again, I assure you.”

Rans glanced at the other members of High Command, and shifted in his seat. “We’ll need to discuss this privately.”

Revan nodded. “Come on, T3.”

#

“That wasn’t your best presentation,” Carth said quietly as they leaned on the railing outside the High Command conference room, watching people move around the levels of the Senate Tower.

“I’m preoccupied,” she mumbled.

“Mariamne?”

Revan nodded, running her thumb over the smooth, polished railing. “I keep thinking …”

“Of yourself.”

She nodded again. “I keep thinking about what happened, back when he had Malak and me. I just …”

Carth curled his arm around her, and she tucked herself into his shoulder. “You haven’t told me…”

“You don’t want to know.” She sighed. “I wish I didn’t.”

He echoed her sigh and pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her hair. “What do we do if the Republic --”

“I’ll figure something out.”

He laughed. “I’m sure of that, gorgeous.”

“Revan? Ma'am?” They turned back, finding a nervous aide waiting. “They’re ready for you.”

T3 replied with a quiet _dwoo_ , looking up at her. Revan straightened and sighed. “You coming, flyboy?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he murmured, resting his hand on her back as she started forward. They followed the aide inside — Revan scanned the members of Command for some hint of their decision, and got her answer from Garza’s frown.

“We’ve reached a compromise,” Rans said. Revan nodded. “We’ll support the use of the Foundry, but retain control of our forces.”

A quick, easy way to ensure she didn’t get out of hand again — and, they probably hoped, to take care of her quickly if she did. Revan pursed her lips, but nodded. She’d probably be able to intimidate or bully whoever _was_ in charge into doing what she wanted -- they wouldn’t be the first high-ranking Republic officer she’d indirectly controlled. It would just take more work.

“I think that’s a bad idea, but I get it.”

“It will take us at least a month to set aside the proper resources. After that, we expect to see results as soon as possible. Otherwise, the Oversight Committee might have my head.” She nodded. “Can you deliver?”

“Yes.”

“As for the fleet,” Rans continued, making a note on his datapad. “We’ve decided to reinstate Carth Onasi at his previous rank of Vice Admiral, and give _him_ command of the Foundry fleet.”

“What?” Carth said, straightening up in his chair at the back of the room.

“What?” Revan echoed.

“I’m fairly certain you heard me,” Rans replied. “If you’ll give us a moment, Revan, we’ll discuss the details with him.”

Revan narrowed her eyes, glancing between Rans and Carth. T3 chirped, gently took her hand with his manipulator, and tugged her towards the door. As it closed behind her, she stood still for a moment before mechanically moving back to the railing.

It wasn’t that Carth was being reinstated, she mused. He was damn good at his job, lived and breathed the military and, she admitted, looked _especially_ good in uniform. It was about the fact that Rans had, whether knowingly or otherwise, put the one person she couldn’t intimidate in charge of the fleet that’d be covering the Foundry.

Not that Carth wouldn’t take her advice — he just wouldn’t be bullied.

“Frakking _kidding_ me,” she mumbled, looking down at T3. “Do you believe this?” He replied with a quiet _dwoooooooooooo_ and moved his top in something like a head-shake.

By the time the door opened and Carth stepped out with the vaguest dazed expression, datapad in hand, Revan had completely recovered and was leaning back against the hallway railing with her arms crossed.

“So an admiral, huh?” she asked.

“Uh, heh, yeah,” he replied. “Apparently.”

“In charge of _my_ Foundry fleet.”

“Technically, it’s _my_ fleet.” Revan’s mouth drew into a thin line. “Don’t be like that, gorgeous.”

“Don’t tell me what to be like, you drunk tach.”

“Drunk tach?” Carth crossed the balcony, hands upheld. “Anna, come on. It’s me. It’s not like I’m going to ignore your advice.”

“No, you won’t, but I can’t browbeat you into doing what I want either.”

“You were going to seize control from whoever they put in charge, weren’t you?”

She glanced over the railing. “No.”

“Uh-huh. Well, then.” He looked down at his datapad. “I won’t tell you that I’m back at my old pay scale, either.” Revan blinked and looked back up at him without moving her head.

“R-9?”

“Mhm.”

Revan sighed. “Good enough, I guess. Plus,” she continued, stepping closer and resting her hands on his waist. “You know what this means, right?”

“Hm?”

“You’re going to be in uniform.” She lowered her voice. “A _lot_.”

Carth tipped her chin up with his finger, leaning down to quickly press their lips together.  “No hard feelings?”

“There are definitely a few hard feelings.”

“Anna—”

“But it’s alright. The uniform makes up for it.” Carth shook his head, and she grinned. “So, flyboy. What now?”

“Well,” he said. “Now that the account has credits in it again, I’m paying Satele for all those droid parts.”

“Damn it. I was hoping you’d forget.”

“ _Then_ , we’ve got a month to kill.”

Revan sighed. “Ugh, and this being Corus—”

“I’ve got an idea.” He took her hand, twining their fingers together. “But we’re going to have to take a trip.”

“Where are we going?” He pulled her after him as he started down the hall, HK on their heels. “Carth—”

“C’mon, T3.” The droid chirped and rolled after them.

“Carth, where the hell are we — wait." She pulled her hand out of his. "Why am I not getting paid?”

“You’re considered a Jedi contractor again.”

“Godsdamn it.” She sighed. "Of course I am."


	16. 300 Years, 7.4 Million Miles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're getting two chapters today -- This was originally part of 15, but I reordered things to make a bit more sense, and I'm :/ that the last two chapters have both been related to the damn Foundry. Also, this chapter is unusually short. So hence two chapters in one day.  
> Aside: I'm only so nice to these two right now because eventually, they must Suffer.

“Seriously, though, why are we on Talus?”

Carth had gotten them passage on a regular passenger run to the Corellian system, and just a few hours after their High Command briefing they were following a shipyard representative down a hangar hallway. All Carth had said during the flight was a continued reiteration that she would see when they got there, which didn’t give her confidence. HK clunked behind her, occasionally tapping his gun.

She had to figure out what kink in his programming made him do that. It was seriously damaging her calm.

“I found something. Or, well.” He motioned. “T3 found something.”

“Oh. _Great_ ,” Revan muttered. T3 replied with a rude chirp. “Hush, you.”

“It’s been here for years,” their guide finally said. “The boss didn’t want to sell it, even to the Corellian museums. Since he died, we were going to start looking for a buyer — that’s when you contacted us, sir.”

Revan narrowed her eyes, staring at Carth. He shrugged. “And the museums aren’t interested anymore?”

“The Corellian Museum of Military History has been, but they blew all their acquisition credits on something _claiming_ to be Zayne Carrick’s old ship a month ago. Bit of a loss for them. No idea why they want this one, anyway. But with the war back on, we’re going to need this hangar space soon — and no one’s gonna haul her for us.” He stopped at a door and began keying a code into the keypad. “Here it is. Hanger 182.”

The door zipped open, and Revan grabbed Carth’s arm with a gasp.

Nestled inside the hangar was a _c_ -shaped _Dynamic-_ class freighter, red and silver, the paint dulled and chipped with age. Her shape was not as smooth as her modern sisters, marking her as a long-discontinued style, but _they_ recognized her easily.

“Is it …” she whispered. Carth shook his head.

“Probably not,” he replied quietly. “But I had T3 looking to see if there were any like her still out there, and here we are.”

“If you plan to fly her,” the representative continued, “she’ll need extensive retrofitting. Typical freighter layout for her size — two dormitories on either side, front-facing cockpit. She was clearly a smuggling vessel at one time — we’ve found several smugglers’ holds scattered throughout the ship. The cockpit was turned into a fully-sealed capsule with a vacuum-rated bulkhead at some point in her history. The engines and hyperdrive are hilariously outdated, as is the medbay and the communications room, and the weapons could be upgraded. These models are known for their speed, though. I’m confident that we could pack a powerful hyperdrive into her.

“If you’re collecting, she’s in fine condition, almost pristine. Probably hasn’t flown in a good hundred and fifty years, but she was obviously well-cared for before the family acquired her. Might have been a Jedi ship at one point, we found some antique robes on board — if you’re into that sort of thing.”

Revan caught her breath, finally, her hand still tight on Carth’s arm. There was almost no way this was _their_ ship — the _Ebon Hawk_ was likely long-scrapped, her historical significance overlooked or ignored. But finding one of her sisters — even if there were newer ships, bigger or faster or … well, it'd still be like coming home.

“And of course, we here at Mapeto Drive Yards are more than willing to make any retrofits you may deem necessary,” the representative continued suggestively.

“Do you have her registry number?” Carth asked. The representative drew out his datapad and scrolled through a list.

“34-P7JK,” he said, almost disinterestedly. Carth and Revan exchanged a look. That _had_ been the _Hawk_ ’s registry … Revan shook her head and shrugged. He might be looking to make more on the sale, by linking the ship to a historic one of the same make, but she wouldn’t fall for it.

“I want to check her out,” Revan said. “Then we’ll decide.”

“Absolutely. I’ll wait out here.”

Revan and Carth traded another look and started towards the ramp. T3 chirped happily and shot past them, rolling up the loading ramp at breakneck speed.

“Do you think…” Carth asked quietly as their feet touched the ramp. Revan shook her head.

“Like you said — the _Hawk_ ’s probably long gone.”

He nodded. “I got a little hopeful when he gave us her registry, I’ll adm—”

As Revan reached the top of the ramp, the Force hit her in the face like a rock. The fact that this had once been a Jedi vessel was obvious to her — she could feel it on the ship itself, thick in the metal, and in a way it was almost comforting. Familiar. _Home_.

Home?

“Anna?” Carth touched her shoulder, and she opened her eyes.

“I need to check something,” she said, stepping further into the ship and heading for the starboard dormitory. Carth frowned, and followed. From somewhere back in the ship T3 was chirping, the sound echoing throughout.

Once in the dorm, Revan headed for the rear cot and tugged the desiccated mattress off its berth with a cloud of dust. Carth sneezed. She pulled the berth top off, revealing an empty compartment, and reached deeper inside.

“Anna—”

“Sh.” She held her hand over the panel in the floor and began to raise it with the Force, slowly moving it out of the bunk’s base before letting it clatter to the floor outside. Underneath, they could make out what looked like a tight cluster of ten to twelve tall, long-necked bottles. Revan pulled one out, scrubbing her thumb over the label. It was faded, almost unreadable, and she grinned. “Look,” she said triumphantly, thrusting the bottle towards him.

“What am I looking at?”

“Tarisian ale, dated three hundred years ago. Probably the last in the galaxy. Right where _I_ left it.”

“Right where you—” Carth looked up at the ceiling, then out into the hallway. “Then this _is_ her.”

“I felt it as soon as I came on board.”

He looked back down at her, frowning deeply. “Wait. Is _this_ what you did with the rest of the ale after the _Leviathan_? After that night you got too drunk to move, and I had to carry you into the medbay?”

“All while still wanting to strangle me? Yep.”

“You hid it under _my bunk_?”

“This was Jolee’s bunk.”

“Oh, and _that_ makes it better? He and I both told you to get rid of it.”

“…… Canderous helped.”

“Oh, and _that_ makes it better?”

“Oh, hush,” she said, straightening. “Just think, we have that bottle for tonight.”

“I don’t think so,” Carth replied. “I hate this shit, and you know it.”

Revan snatched it back from him, raising the floor panel and dropping it back into place with a loud _clang_. “Then _I_ have it for tonight.”

“ _No_.” Carth tried to grab for it, and she nimbly ducked out of the way. “I remember very well how Tarisian makes you.”

“You never argued before,” she retorted. “Come on, let’s walk her through and see what we’ll need to retrofit.”

“Do you think he knows what he has here? He could sell it to a museum for millions.”

“I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “He didn’t even look at us when he told us her registry — not trying to gauge whether we reacted. The owner probably knew — but it doesn’t look like _they_ passed it on. How many credits do we have?”

“How many were you thinking?”

“Given the level of repairs needed, I think I can haggle him down to ‘extremely cheap.’ Then we’ll just have to see what we can do about the retrofits. Considering we’re doing them a favor by getting her out of their way, I think we’ll maybe hit low six digits. And that’s if my bargaining skills are _extremely_ rusty.”

Carth sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Let’s see, then.”

“Plus,” Revan said, as they headed back into the ship. “All I’m worried about from them is the hyperdrive, nav system, shields, and whether she’s spaceworthy. The two of us should be able to repair everything else on our own, and I’m sure we can find what we need from somewhere else.”

He nodded, following her into the main hold. “I can’t believe the old girl is still around,” he murmured, running his hand over the steel. “Or that _we_ found her.”

Revan grinned. “Me either, flyboy.”

#

It didn’t take long for them to finish their walkthrough of the ship, and they fetched T3 from the cockpit (where he was happily chatting with the navicomputer) and headed down the ramp. HK, standing guard at the bottom, fell in next to them as they approached the representative. He was arguing with someone over holocomm, but hung up as he saw them approaching.

“So!” he called. “How did she look?”

Carth glanced down at Revan, who put on her most winning smile. “She’s exactly what we’re after,” she said, positively leaking the charisma that had once made her so dangerous. “What price were you looking to sell at?”

“Given the age of the ship and the necessary repairs, we’re looking at around thirty thousand.”

Revan huffed. “Thirty thousand is the typical price of a normal _used_ freighter. This one is over three _hundred_ years old. Asking for a used price point when she needs ‘extensive retrofitting’ is ridiculous. Ten thousand seems appropriate.”

“Ten thousand? If it wasn’t for her age, and her outdated hardware, she would be in pristine condition. Twenty-five.”

Carth folded his arms over his chest, watching. Revan glanced at him, then back at the representative. “Eleven.”

“Twenty.”

“For a three hundred year old ship?” she scoffed, motioning with her hand and coloring her words with the tiniest nudge of the Force. “Eleven and a half is as high as I’ll go.”

“Let me make a call.”

The representative stepped away, opening up his commlink, and Revan looked back at Carth. “They’ll go for it,” she said.

“Don’t tell me you ‘encouraged’ him.”

Revan tucked her hand under her arm. “You wound me with your wild accusations.” He frowned at her. “Maybe a little. But I wouldn’t if it wasn’t the _Hawk_.”

He sighed. “ _Maybe_ I won’t tell Satele.”

She gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.” Carth chuckled, and she set her hands on her hips. “You wouldn’t dare, Carth Onasi.”

“I’m not the one ‘encouraging’ people to cut me a deal on a starship, am I?” he hissed. She scrunched her face up.

“Alright.” The representative returned, thankfully unaware of their conversation. “We’ll sell at eleven and a half.”

Revan looked at Carth triumphantly. He waved his hand. “Great!” she said. “We’ll take it. Now, let’s talk about those retrofits…”


	17. Mysterious Allies

 

They got the retrofits they were worried about at a decent enough price, spending most on the engines and the hyperdrive.  Revan told Carth that night over a celebratory dinner that outrunning Sith vessels was her top priority, and he agreed.

The _Hawk_ ’s retrofits were slated to take about four weeks — apparently, they _desperately_ needed the space — and they stayed near the shipyard in a decent but inexpensive hotel. Most days they spoke with Command over secure holo, arranging the forces they’d need for the Foundry, or oversaw the work on the _Hawk_. It was still hard for them to believe their luck. Revan commented at one point early in the week that, while it was contradictory to her own Force philosophy, only one thing could have both ensured the _Hawk_ ’s protection over the past three hundred years _and_ have led them straight to her.

She slept poorly that night.

Around the end of the second week, Carth had left early to oversee the hyperdrive’s installation with T3. Revan spent a good bit of the morning catching up on the war before finally putting on a shirt and opening her holocomm.

Eventually, after a few minutes of ringing, the Grand Master appeared on the other end. :: _Is this important, Revan?_ ::

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the Temple today. Do you have a minute?”

Satele sighed. :: _I have_ a _minute, yes._ ::

Someone must have _seriously_ ruined her breakfast. “You’re not in the middle of a battle or something.”

:: _I’m en route to one. You have **a** minute._ ::

“The Republic approved the Foundry mission, I need to talk to you about an idea I have that would require me temporarily borrowing a couple of Jedi. By ‘temporarily,’ I mean, perhaps a week — no more. Call me when you aren’t attempting to kick some Sith’s ass.”

:: _Understood_. ::

Revan hung up, and promptly pulled her shirt off and turned the vidscreen back on.

As was becoming more common, her thoughts slowly turned to her great-granddaughters. She had been checking up on Thaymina, mostly through Gav’riel. She was awake and coherent now, but had locked herself in the quarters she shared with her sister and had barely been seen since. The Zabrak and her new Padawan were the only two she would speak to, and then only when she opened the door to take a tray of food. Revan had an idea what she was doing — meditating like hell in the hopes that she’d lend her sister even a tiny bit of strength. Admirable, if probably fruitless, and likely helping keep herself sane and in a minimum amount of pain.

Revan straightened up on the bed and folded her legs under her, closing her eyes as she reached out for the Force. She didn’t meditate like this often. Typically she had to keep moving, usually running lightsaber drills, her attention waning long before she was immersed -- the curses of a genius-level intellect and an oddly-wired brain. And full immersion like _this_ was risky, as it could alert the Emperor to her and cause someone to break into their hotel room when she started screaming.

Almost as an afterthought, she pulled her shirt back on.

Once fully immersed in the currents of the Force, Revan skirted along the edge of the thread that still connected her to him, throwing herself lightyears across the galaxy before breaking off. The darkness at the end didn’t stir. She took a moment to wonder if he hadn’t noticed her, or if he just wanted her to _think_ that. She focused a tiny bit harder and brought the world around her into view, finding herself back in the station she’d seen on when Vitiate had broken through. Even from this distance she could feel his presence soaked into the steel, a skin-crawling, odious malevolence that seemed to constantly be standing over her left shoulder.

Oddly, somehow, it felt a little like he wasn't entirely on board.

He must have a stronger link to this Voice than anticipated. Perhaps having inhabited it long enough? Whatever it was, it didn't matter. The hair on her physical neck raised, a weird sensation considering the separation of her body and consciousness. She'd thought he rarely left Dromund Kaas. Where was he now? What was he overseeing? What poor bastard's meatsuit was he currently wearing? She decided that, for the moment, she didn't want to know.

Revan made her way through the facility, skirting around red-clothed Imperial Guards and the occasional droid patrolling the halls. The droids wouldn’t see her — but she was worried about the Force-sensitives, even though she was masking herself as well as she could. She glanced out a viewport as she passed, spotting the thunderstorm-ravaged surface of Dromund Kaas far below the station, and shuddered as she moved on.

Deeper in the bowels of the station, she felt like she was moving closer to her destination. This wasn't the first time she'd tried to see if she could get through to Mariamne. Part of it was concern. The other was that, if she found her, she would have more information should she go after her. Typically, she was interrupted before she reached her. Today, as she passed spots she remembered, she figured she _must_ be close. At one point she was fairly sure she passed Mariamne's droid, but it was highly unlikely that T7 could wander the station at will.

Finally she stood outside a final door in the bowels of the station, the keypad outside demanding a biometric scan, and raised her hand to push through the steel—

—when her holocomm rang.

Revan was knocked out of her concentration, slamming back into reality with a highly uncomfortable jolt. She grumbled under her breath as she fumbled for the comm. It was either Satele, though she thought it'd only been a half-hour or so, or it was Carth asking about the _Hawk_. One was more likely than the other. She scrubbed the side of her face as she answered.

“Satele? That was fas—”

:: _Revan_. :: The hooded figure that met her was obviously not Satele — they were wearing a thick hooded robe that obscured their features, but they looked more broadly built than the lithe Grand Master. That, and unless Satele had suddenly grown, stolen, or been injected with a sense of humor, this wasn't her usual MO.

“Who is this?” she demanded. “This is a private, encrypted number. How did you get it? You bett--”

:: _That is not important._ ::

“I damn well think it is. I—”

:: _This is in regard to your great-granddaughter, Jedi Knight Mariamne Galon._ :: Revan closed her mouth. That probably explained how they got her number, then. :: _She is being held by the Sith Emperor in a hidden station above Dromund Kaas._ ::

“I am aware,” she replied dryly.

:: _I have access to this station_ , :: they continued. :: _I am working to secure her release._ ::

Uh-huh. “Are you, now?”

:: _Don’t sound surprised. There are Sith who do not follow the Emperor._ ::

There was something vaguely familiar about the mysterious caller. Something in the voice, or the set of the shoulders under the robe. Revan narrowed her eyes. Something she would have preferred to never consider again. Those memories -- clear, and suffering from the same horrible hyperthymesia -- were not good ones.

“Who is this?” she demanded again.

:: _You will be contacted once we have left the Emperor’s station. Do not expect to hear from me again._ ::

“Don’t you hang up on me, you son of—” The call clicked off, and she nearly threw her holocomm. When she examined the call, it said only what she expected: Kaas City.

Revan groaned and flopped back down on the bed. She’d have to get T3’s opinion when they came back. She had an inkling of _why_ the figure seemed familiar, and she had absolutely one opinion about it.

“If it _is_ that asshole,” she muttered, throwing her arm over her eyes. “I’m going to punch him in the face.”

#

Carth came back in the early afternoon.

She was alerted to this because HK, who insisted on standing guard outside their room, announced his intention to fire a warning shot if the “whiny meatbag” refused to desist. Revan sighed and opened the door, finding Carth glaring with a take-out bag in hand and T3 slowly encroaching on the assassin droid’s position, shock arm extended.

“Force,” she snapped. “HK, it’s frakking Carth. You’ve known him for something like three hundred years now.”

“Warning:” HK began, and Revan’s eyes started to roll of their own accord. “Sith agents can be suspiciously clever, master. Suggestion: Opening with blasterfire removes all doubts.”

“I cannot believe I ever trusted you around an infant,” she mumbled. “Stop. I’m not in the mood.”

“Thanks,” Carth replied, eying HK as he edged past him into the room. “What has you on edge?”

Revan huffed as she closed the door behind T3. “Grab my holocomm,” she told him. “I want you to trace the last call I received.”

“What?” Carth asked. “Who called you?”

She huffed again and flounced down on the bed, throwing her arm back over her eyes. “I don’t know. No, that’s a lie. I have a reasonable suspicion. And it’s pissing me off.”

Revan relayed the morning’s events — calling Satele, investigating the Emperor’s secret station for Mariamne’s location, and her caller — while Carth laid out their lunch, his frown deepening.

“I don’t like you doing that,” he said, when she finished.

“What?” Revan sat up. “Out of all that, you don’t like me —”

“You’ve talked a lot about the Emperor and what he can do. What if he has a way to trap you while you’re doing that? What if —” Carth swallowed heavily. “What if I come back here and find you dead because he’d, I don’t know, trapped you there or something?”

“I wouldn’t be dead, just comatose. It’s not like I’m leaving my body. My reptilian brain would still be intact.”

“That’s not — that’s not the point! The point is that I don’t understand it.”

“That— what?”

“I don’t understand it. I don’t understand him, or what he did to you, or how it worked — hell, I don’t even understand the godsdamned Force, but I put up with it because I love you! And I can have your back out here, but I can’t when you do that. If something happens, I’ll never know. After all this, after everything that had to happen for us to be here, I’ll never know, and there’s nothing I could do about it.”

Revan got to her feet, curling her arms around him and burying her face in his chest. “I’m an ass,” she admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“You are an ass,” he agreed, burying his face in her hair as he pulled her closer to him. She stepped on his foot. “Ow!”

“You don’t have to agree so wholeheartedly!” Revan frowned. “Doing that … the risk of something happening is low. As far as I know, there’s no way to keep me from coming back. I’m only throwing my consciousness out there — it’s no different from a Jedi viewing something remotely, just more personal. But.” She sighed. “You’re right. If someone’s found a way to frak around with it, it’s the thing I learned the trick from.”

“You _learned_ it from him? And then _tried_ it? What the hell, Anna.”

“It seemed useful at the time, alright? I just admitted you were right.”

“I noticed.” Carth raised his head. “Hey, T3, make a note of the date and time that I was right.” T3 whistled, and Revan stepped on his foot again. “Will you stop?”

“Make me,” she replied, staring up at him through her lashes.

“Uh-uh. Not until you tell me you’ll stop. Or, at least … only do it when I’m here. I don’t know, maybe if he does something, I can pull you out of it. I just — I feel helpless around you a _lot_ , with the problems you seem to stumble over. Doing things like that when I’m not around … I don’t know. I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

“Alright. I won’t go gallivanting about in the Force when you’re not around,” she agreed.

“You aren’t just saying that?”

“ _No_ , Carth. Your concern is a good one. I won’t do it again. I meant it when I said you were right.”

“Thanks,” he said, kissing her forehead. “It _does_ make me feel better.” Carth stepped back, handing her a food container. “Got this while I was out. I figured you’d forgotten to eat again.”

“Ugh. I did.” She settled down at their table. “How’s that trace coming, T3?”

T3 whistled, a series of ascending notes followed by a low, quiet, nervous _dwooooo_. Revan sighed. The Dark Citadel, as expected. The droid offered to dig further, and she shook her head.

“No, if it’s going there, I don’t want you poking further.” Revan sniffed at the contents of a large travel cup Carth passed her. “Is this spiced caf? On Talus?”

“Mandalorian stuff seems to be getting popular again.”

“Remember when they renamed this stuff during the Wars?”

Carth chuckled. “What did they start calling it? Freedom caf?”

“Something like that.”

They ate in silence for a few moments before Carth asked, “So who called you?”

“T3 was tracing the call.” The droid chirped. “Went back to the Dark Citadel. Proves it’s Imperial, at least, probably Sith, and probably high-ranking.”

“How so?”

“Dark Citadel’s the Sith version of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. If someone’s making a call to a highly encrypted private line associated with Public Enemy Number One _from_ the seat of the Empire itself, they’ve probably got their _own_ highly encrypted private line, with very little concern that Intelligence is going to come down on them with the wrath of …” She trailed off briefly. “Well, with the wrath of the Emperor, which might be slightly appropriate in this circumstance.”

Carth moved his hand when she paused again.

“I’m pretty sure I know who it is. Remember the Sith I was telling you about?”

“The one that threw the fight with the Emperor?”

“Yeah. Him.”

“That was three hundred years ago, Anna. He’s probably—”

“Nah. The Emperor rewards people who serve him well. He handed me over on a gold platter — only thing missing was my hands tied and a fruit in my mouth. He got a minor repeat of the ritual that gave the Emperor immortality, I think, plus a fancy title. ‘Emperor’s Wrath.’ Makes him … well, not one of the Emperor’s hands or something, those titles are relatively literal and already out there. More like the Emperor’s big toe, or the second finger on his right hand.”

“And you think it’s him? Why would he betray his master?”

“Sounds to me like he gets off on it, he does it so often,” she mumbled. “If it _is_ him, and he _is_ still alive, then he’s probably been running a centuries-long con on the Emperor. I don’t believe he wanted a war with the Republic any more than I wanted one with the Empire. I’m certain he thought a variable changed, and threw the battle because of it. I know he didn’t have any love for his master, and I doubt _that's_ changed. Plus … he has a very bad habit of rescuing his own prisoners.”

“But it might not be.”

“No, it might not. And that’s what worries me. If it is, though.” She chewed her food thoughtfully. “I’m going to break his nose.”

“An—”

“And don’t you try to stop me, Carth Onasi.” She waggled her fork at him. “He’s why I got put in stasis. You should be offering to hold him down for me.”

“I didn’t say I was going to try and stop you.”

“Good.”

#

Revan didn’t hear from her mysterious caller again.

Installation of the ship’s new engines and hyperdrive went as anticipated, and the brief in-atmosphere test flight Carth and Revan took her on had both of them nearly in tears by the time they landed. They both admitted it was a little ridiculous, having that sort of emotional reaction to the ship, but it was the first time they’d both truly felt at home since waking up.

Carth and Revan on the _Ebon Hawk_ , like it should be.

By the time the _Hawk_ ’s retrofits were done, arrangements for the Foundry operation were nearing completion and they were due back on Coruscant for the last stages. As Carth settled behind the controls and Revan strapped herself into the copilot’s seat, the ship herself seemed to anticipate her return to the stars.

Carth glanced over at her and grinned. “You ready?”

“Never been more,” she replied with her own grin.

“We’ll start her easy. That way, if something goes wrong—”

“Just get us out of here, flyboy.”

“You got it.”

As the ship came to life around them, a series of clicks and whirs and lighting panels, they glanced at one another and grinned again.

“You know,” Revan said. “It’s too bad she needed repairs. We could have just stolen her. It’s tradition at this point, isn’t it?”

“It’s only tradition if the planet’s being bombed around us.”

You’re no fun.”

He raised the ship off the pad, the engines thrumming under his hands. Revan began plotting the hyperspace route to Coruscant as Carth directed the ship upwards. “Here we go,” he said as the viewports streaked red with heat. Neither breathed until the red broke into black, dotted with distant stars and the looming planets of Corellia’s system. Carth leaned back in his seat heavily, and they both stared outside for some time.

“Well,” Revan said finally. “As long as she goes to lightspeed, I think we’re set.” Carth opened the intercom.

“T3, you finished your —” A series of chirps answered him, text flashing on one of the screens on the ship’s controls. They both studied it. “Looks like everything’s in order, then,” Carth continued. “Shall w—”

He was interrupted again by a comm ringing back in the communications room, and Revan stood with a sigh. “I’ll get it.”

They had condensed the communications equipment into more compact, newer arrays. Revan leaned over one of them, answering the alert. “Revan.”

:: _I have news_. :: Satele appeared on the screen, her voice rushed.

“…about what?”

:: _We made contact with Mariamne’s Padawan, Kira. They are back in Republic space, returning to Tython._ ::

Revan stared down at the screen for a moment, blinking. “We’ll be right there.”

:: _Re—_ ::

She hung up and stepped back into the cockpit. “Change of plans, Carth.”

“Huh?”

“We’re setting course for Tython. Mari’s back.”


	18. Unexpected Visitors, Expected Violence

They landed on Tython around the middle of the afternoon, local time, and had barely cleared the bottom of the ramp when the shuttle took off for the station again. As they waited, Satele, Kiwiiks, and Kaedan joined them, clearing out the shuttle bay while a Temple medical team waited just inside the doors

Finally the shuttle landed, and the ramp lowered, and Doc carefully helped Mariamne down.

She looked exhausted, limping on at least one leg, with her head bowed and hair falling loose over her face. Carth glanced at Revan, her face neutral but shoulders tense and hard as she stepped forward and rested her hand on Mariamne's arm.

"I've done what I can," Doc said as they reached the ground, devoid of his usual jaunty tone. Kira followed them, looking tired but otherwise unharmed. "She needs help, badly."

Revan's eyes traveled back up to the ramp, and Carth's hand fell to his guns at the sight of an enormous, armored Sith pureblood coming down the ramp — he noticed a second later that the Council's had also discreetly dropped to their weapons.

Her eyes narrowed, and the Sith spotted her. He took a half-step back towards the shuttle with a hissed line of Sith profanity. She started forward, shoving up her sleeve. She'd figured it had been him — after all, he had unparalleled access to the Emperor's station, was an interrogator with reasonable skill, and had a bad habit of rescuing his prisoners.

She'd also made a specific promise to herself about it.

"How frakking _dare_ you!" she snapped, launching herself off the ground high enough to slam her fist into his face. He staggered back.

"Revan!" Satele barked, starting forward. Carth beat her to it, hurrying after her.

The Sith held up a hand, the other cradling his face. "I deserved that."

"You're godsdamned _right_ you deserved that, you son of a bitch." Revan threw another punch that landed square in his chest. He curled back.

"That was three hundred years ago, I—"

"You _what_ , _shabuir_?" This time, Carth caught her around her waist as she jumped, and hauled her back. She struggled, hard. "Let me go, Carth Onasi!"

"It's _enough_ ," he muttered. She fought harder.

"No, it _isn't_!" she protested. "That _buir ik'aad gotaan_ is the reason I ended up in stasis!"

"It wasn't personal," the Sith defended.

"It wasn't personal, my _ass_!"

"Trust me on this one," Carth said. Revan sighed heavily and stopped struggling. "Are you going to behave?"

"Yes, yes, I won't do anything if he doesn't," she mumbled darkly, still glaring. Carth tentatively released her, and she straightened her tunic with a huff. Satele, who had made it to Mariamne, returned her attention to her.

"Mariamne?" Satele asked.

She raised her head, fading bruises and dried blood coloring her pale skin. "The mission was a failure," Mariamne said, hoarseness making her voice even softer. "I don't know what happened to the others. The Emperor is …" She shook her head weakly, lowering it back to her chest. "Vastly more powerful than we realized." She motioned back at the Sith, who had now crossed his arms and was eying Revan carefully. "The Emperor's Wrath betrayed his master and helped us escape."

"Sith serve no one but themselves," Kaedan interjected, casting a wary look at the newcomer. Scourge frowned.

"I altered my loyalties to avert a threat to myself, and to you. Jedi are not alone in seeing the future."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Revan grumbled. The Sith's brow ridges twitched lower.

"Centuries ago, I had a vision of the Emperor destroying the galaxy. Republic, Empire, everything — gone. I believe this Jedi has the power to stop him."

"For what it's worth," Mariamne said, "I believe him. About the Emperor, anyway."

"The renewed war is a diversion from his true designs. His plans are already in motion throughout the galaxy. One by one, star systems will simply die. Trillions will perish."

"And how does that benefit him?" Satele glanced between the Sith and Revan.

"Power," Revan answered simply.

"He will feed on the death," the Sith elaborated, "and become more powerful than all the Jedi and Sith combined. An immortal being of unlimited power."

"Where the Emperor is concerned, power and immortality are usually at the heart of his ideation." Revan shook her head. "This is why I should have been included in the planning on this mission. You had no idea what you were dealing with."

"A thousand years ago, the Emperor tricked an entire Sith world into aiding a dark ritual, for promises of great power," the Sith continued. "For himself, of course. The ritual consumed every living thing on the planet, and he absorbed those life essences through the Force."

"That is the world you told us about," Kiwiiks said, looking back at Revan. She nodded. "Nathema."

"Yes," the Sith agreed. "You marvel at his power now, but that was merely one world. Imagine what he'll become after consuming millions."

"He's been manipulating events for centuries, towards the goal of an even greater ritual that will destroy the galaxy," Revan added.

"There is no possibility that a creature could gain the level of power you are describing," Kaedan scoffed. "The Emperor cannot feed on death. He cannot absorb them. The Force does not work that way."

"When _you_ have a thousand years to study the Force, get back to me," Revan retorted. "Of those standing here, only a few of us have seen the Emperor — both in person, and for what he is. His power is matched only by his self-interest and fear of irrelevancy. He has gained immortality and will do anything to preserve it. He is the closest thing to a _god_ everyone here will likely see — you're just too blind and stubborn to see it." She motioned between herself and Scourge. "I hate to say it, but you can either keep believing that, or ask the two people who've been in contact with the Emperor for three hundred years. Logically, I know what I'd take."

Kaedan huffed and opened his mouth. Satele interrupted. "You support what this Sith says, then."

Revan nodded hesitantly. "Before he became the Emperor's Wrath, Scourge and I were … temporary allies." The Sith nodded. "First he was my interrogator while I was held by a Dark Council member, but—"

"I had never met a Jedi before," Scourge interrupted. "I sought knowledge."

"Eventually another Jedi showed up, and he helped free me. We agreed to destroy the Emperor, together — and for some reason that _I_ was never informed of, largely because I was promptly carted off to the torture slabs, he stabbed us in the back as soon as we looked like we were winning." Revan frowned at him. "One decent Jedi dead, a perfectly good droid destroyed, and me in stasis."

"I had a vision during the fight. As I said, it was not personal. And believe me — my 'reward' for saving the Emperor's life was no less pleasant than your stasis."

Revan tightened her arms. "Well it felt personal, _shabuir,_ " she grumbled.

Satele glanced between the two again. "Do you trust him now?"

"No. But …" She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I _do_ trust that he is not aligned with the Emperor's goals, and that he would rather not see the galaxy destroyed for one man's power. Our goals were aligned then, and I believe that they are still. There's just been more backstabbing." Revan nodded at Mariamne. "You should see to her. The Emperor will not destroy the galaxy tomorrow."

"No," Scourge agreed. "He still has several events that must be put in place."

"Very well." Satele motioned to the medical team. "We will meet to plan our next move once you feel capable."

Mariamne nodded tiredly and Doc turned her towards the team. The medical team's advance was thrown into sudden distress when Thaymina broke through, wrapped in an outer robe simultaneously too short and too large for her, her hair down and deep, black circles under her eyes.

"Mari!" she yelled, running forward. Her sister looked up and weakly embraced her, burying her head in the side of Thaymina's neck limply.

"Are you done with her?" Thaymina asked, irritation biting at her tone as she stared at Satele. The Grand Master nodded, and Thaymina carefully helped her sister towards the waiting medical team.

"Will you be staying?" Kiwiiks asked Scourge. The Sith nodded.

"For now, I will remain on the Jedi's ship. It will be … better for everyone." He eyed Revan, who huffed. "I will return when you are ready to discuss things further." Satele nodded, and he started back onto the shuttle as the Council dispersed. Revan cleared her throat.

"Scourge." He looked back. "If you betray her like you betrayed me, I _will_ find you, and I _will_ kill you in interesting and unpleasant ways."

"Noted." He disappeared into the shuttle, and Carth rested his hand on her back.

"So that's him, huh?" She nodded. "I hate him."

Revan snorted. "I love you, flyboy. Let's go check on the girls."

#

Carth and Revan hurried through the Temple to the medical bay, finding Mariamne already settled in one of the cots with Thaymina perched on the edge, the twins' hands clasped as they talked quietly. Revan glanced for a moment at the Temple healers, currently discussing a datapad in the corner with Doc, and headed for the cot instead as Carth lagged behind.

Revan sank down opposite Thaymina on the bed and gently rested her hand on Mariamne's shoulder. She was almost expressionless, Carth thought, but there was something in the creases around her eyes as she met her great-granddaughter's — the type of wordless, haunted look shared with someone who'd seen the same terrible things.

"How do you feel?" Revan asked softly. Mariamne shook her head, and Revan looked up. "Thaymina, I know you don't want to, but can you give us a moment?" The other twin swallowed but nodded, and quietly stood and moved away. "You too, Carth."

He echoed Thaymina's nod and stepped back towards the doors, and Revan tightened her grip on Mariamne's shoulder. "Mari?"

She shook her head. "I keep seeing…" she whispered, looking away. "It won't stop."

Revan started to open her mouth, before closing it gently. There wasn't much to say — she knew that more than anyone her great-granddaughter would talk to over the next several weeks. "No," she finally said, quietly. "It won't."

"Never?"

She shrugged. "It'll come less and less. But never completely."

"I…" Mariamne scrubbed at her eyes with the heels of her palms. "I just want —"

Revan pulled her forward, and the knight leaned into her willingly as she wrapped her in her arms. "Here's what I say," Revan murmured. "Get some rest. If they offer you sedatives, take them, and don't feel guilty for it. Don't be alone for the next few days, not for very long. And don't put up with _any_ of _their_ shit. I recommend leaving if Kaedan even comes within speaking distance."

"Is that a professional opinion?" Mariamne murmured into her neck.

"Professional _Jedi_ opinion, or professional getting-tortured-by-the-Sith opinion?" Revan said, a smirk barely forming on her lips. "Consider it the 'what _I_ should have done' opinion."

Her great-granddaughter pulled away, running her thumbs under her eyes. "Thanks," she whispered, looking away again. Revan smiled weakly.

"How about," Revan continued. "I'll stay around for a bit. We're just making preparations for an operation — Carth can handle the Republic end. That way, _you_ can focus on _you_ , and _I_ can focus on making Kaedan's blood pressure stay elevated."

She laughed weakly and nodded. "If you have to deal with the Republic," she said. "I'll be fine."

"Oh no, no, Carth is an _admiral_ again, I'm sure he can handle the mundane nerfshit." She glanced over her shoulder and watched him roll his eyes. "But, no. Get your rest — I'll run interference. Right now, hang the Jedi. Focus on you."

Mariamne nodded. "I've never been very good at that."

"Believe me, it's never too late to learn." Revan got to her feet. "You get started on that 'resting' bit. I'll sort out what I need to."

As she retreated, one of the healers returned to Mariamne's bedside, prompting Thaymina to hurry back. Revan nodded towards the door, and she and Carth stepped out.

"I'm staying until we're ready to hit the Foundry," she said.

"I heard." Carth crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall. "Command won't like it."

"Call it a 'family emergency' or something, I don't care. You're more than capable of handling it."

"Huh. High praise, coming from you."

She slapped his arm. "Stop it, you. Besides, it isn't like Command won't know where I am. I'm just a holo away. Plus, I have to sort out what I need from the Jedi, so I might as well do that while I'm here."

Carth sighed heavily, resting his hands on her shoulders. "You're sure you tr—"

"Of course I do."

"Alright. I'll take the _Hawk_ back to Coruscant and wrap everything up with Command." He paused, letting his hands fall. "Will she be alright?" he finished quietly. Revan sighed, glancing back at the door as she crossed her arms.

"She hasn't hit anyone with Force lightning yet, as far as I know, so she's already a damn sight better than I was. Short term? We'll see. She'll be weak, physically, for a while. Emotionally? She's surrounded by the right people for it, I think. As long as the Jedi don't meddle as much as they _could_ … well. She'll recover."

He nodded. "You're sure you'll be fine back here? I don't want to find out that you've been carted off to some Jedi-proof prison for destroying the Council chambers again."

Revan chuckled. "I'll be fine."


	19. Check

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, honestly, I just forgot. Work got busy and there were some auto accidents and shit but yeah. Foundry time! \o/

Revan spent two weeks on Tython as Carth finished the final preparations for the Foundry. Most of her time was spent with the Council, whose chambers were left mostly intact, discussing the Emperor with overt sarcasm and covert concern -- now that they were listening. Once Mariamne felt up to leaving the Temple’s medcenter, she and Scourge joined them as well. Revan and the Sith kept the table between themselves. To her credit, Mariamne was surprisingly (and superficially) cheerful. Thaymina eventually returned to her duties, disappearing into the war-torn galaxy with some reluctance.

The day before she was set to leave, Revan found her granddaughter sitting on a hill overlooking the Temple grounds, wrapped in a heavy robe with a stony expression on her face. The stocky Jedi spotted her, sighed, and glanced around herself.

“Doc isn’t hiding behind a tree, is he?” Revan asked suspiciously.

“If you found me, he probably is. I needed some air.”

Revan nodded and settled next to her with a sigh. Mariamne was quiet, bundling herself deeper into the robe as they watched Padawans training below them.

“Will you be alright with Scourge?” Revan asked.

“Huh?”

“Scourge. I can run him off if you need me to. Or kill him. I’m partial to either.”

Mariamne laughed quietly. “No, no, I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, but call me if he gets uppity.”

“I appreciate the offer.” She tucked herself further into the robe with another sigh. “What you said before, about the Council —”

“Yes?”

“How did you know?”

Revan laughed, sour and barking. “I have an incredible amount of experience with the Council frakking up. Their response to _me_ going off the deep end was to erase and start over.”

“Good point. But how did … why …” She sighed again. “You never talk about it, what happened. They say it completely turned you against the Jedi. That you hated them.”

“Why are you asking?”

“Because I don’t …” Mariamne shook her head. “I don’t know anymore.”

Revan sighed heavily, tucking her knees up to her chest. “Well …”

It wasn’t something she thought about very often, not since it’d happened. In the aftermath, as her badly damaged body healed itself and she grew angrier and angrier, it had consumed her - but her time spent as an amnesiac had afforded her distance and happy memories, and had slightly healed the wounds the Emperor had tried to reopen.

But at the time …

“Alek and I felt the Emperor’s power as soon as we entered the system,” she said quietly. “We spent two weeks doing recon on Dromund Kaas, posing as mercenaries, but I think … I think he knew we were there, too. We got in with a member of his guard, but of course, the Imperial Guards are all linked to his mind. When we moved, he was ready.

“He tried dominating us. He got Alek, but only weakened me. You know how that feels, by now. I’m sure that’s what happened to you.” Mariamne nodded and tucked the robe closer. “I managed to break Alek out of it, but by the time the guards arrived, we were no challenge. They spent a few days trying to break us conventionally, but eventually they separated us. Took me to a smaller chamber, strapped me up, planted a recorder in front of it, and, well …” She shook her head. “The Sith are very capable of breaking a Jedi. They knew I was too stubborn to give in, even under duress. But they could tell he wasn’t. Watching what they did to me broke him.

“We lasted two weeks. The first few days I …” Revan shook her head again, blinking a sudden rush of moisture away. “I tried every trick I knew from the Jedi. I’d fallen long before then, sure, but I still thought that’s what I was. The Code, using will to ignore the pain, trying to bury myself in the Force, but nothing worked. Everything I did, they countered it. Eventually, that’s when I learned the truth.”

“The truth?”

“The Jedi always say you can walk away. But you never really leave the Jedi — eventually, the Jedi leave you.”

Mariamne was quiet for a moment. “Is that why—”

“I was angry. The Jedi said they had all the answers, that they were the only real option, but when I needed what they’d taught the most it failed me. It wasn’t about revenge, not really. At some point, I _needed_ to show them they were wrong. At twenty-four, full of rage and power, I went about it the only way I could. I wanted to destroy the Emperor, but I needed to counter Sith numbers. The Jedi would never willingly help, so it became twofold — conversion, using what I’d learned from my own ordeal, and convincing. It was horrible, unhealthy. If even one person had gotten to me, I may not have. Instead I had Malak, who had fallen even harder than I had, myself, desperation, and a horde of people who would fly into a supernova for me. Not the best combination.”

Revan tucked her knees closer to her chest, staring blankly down the hill. “You’re already in a better place than I was. You have Thaymina, and friends that care about you. Supporters, not worshippers. People who might stop you if you go too far.”

Mariamne scrubbed her face with her hands. “How do I stop feeling like I didn’t do enough? If I’d just fought harder, I could have stopped him from affecting the others. I could have —”

“No,” she said softly. “It’s the Emperor. You were hopelessly outmatched before you’d even left Tython.”

“Then how do I stop?”

“You won’t. It’s probably not the best thing for me to say, but you won’t. It’s been three hundred years and I still wonder what would have happened if just one thing had changed. But it’s too late for that, for both of us. We live with what we suffer, and at some point are forced to acknowledge that we did all we could.”

“Do you?”

“… I’m trying.”

Mariamne nodded, with a frown. _Good enough_ , Revan thought. “I heard what happened when you found out,” she said.

“Oh, yeah. Not one of my finer moments, even if the look on Kaedan’s face will keep me going for years.”

“It’s just, you know.” She scrubbed the side of her face. “Thaymina’s looked up to you since she first got into your writing. When we pulled you off Maelstrom, I was worried you wouldn’t live up to her. She wanted so badly for you to be happy with her. And, well, you’re ten generations removed, there’s no reason for you to care. But you do. And I guess I just don’t understand it.”

Revan chuckled. “Carth wasn’t the only one that wanted your great-grandmother. I always intended to come back … the Emperor just got in the way. This probably doesn’t help your concerns any, but having you and your sister around feels like a second chance. And why shouldn’t I care? One of you is the Barsen’thor, and the second is well on her way to finishing what I started.”

“You don’t even like the Jedi.”

“Eh. Semantics.” She flashed her a small smile. “You’re already _much_ stronger than I was at your age. Besides, for good or ill, you and Thaymina remind me a little too much of myself.”

Mariamne laughed. “What about Satele?”

“She reminds me _too_ much of pre-fall Bastila.”

“Ah.”

“Feel any better?”

“Maybe a little.”

Revan nodded. “Do you need me to stay longer? Command won’t like me delaying further, but —”

“No, no,” Mariamne said. “I’ll be — _son_ of a —”

Revan turned back to the hill, spotting Doc making his way up the hillside. “I see he’s found you.”

“There you are!” he exclaimed. “I searched half the Temple for you! I’m fairly sure someone was about to throw me out!” Doc nodded to her. “Revan.” She nodded back and waved her hand.

“I needed air,” Mariamne said.

“You turned off your holocomm.”

“I needed quiet, too.”

Doc threw up his hands before offering one to her. “I still think you’re trying to worry me into an early grave.”

Mariamne let him pull her to her feet, replying with a small grin. “Of course, I have to keep you around somehow.”

Revan leaned back on her hands with a grin. “Just remember, Mari,” she said. “I’m just a comm away.”

“I will. Thanks.”

#

The _Hawk_ returned to Tython a few hours later, and Revan, Carth, and Khemmaa headed to meet the 42nd Expeditionary Fleet outside the central Carrick Station. Carth was in a new uniform, freshly pressed, and it took every ounce of self-control Revan possessed to keep her hands off him.

She was almost positive he _knew_ , too.

Once the ship was safely nestled in a hangar on the command ship _Valiant_ , a military aide escorted them to the bridge. Revan, the droids, and the Wookiee trailed behind Carth as the two discussed the ship, and Carth got his bearings. Revan watched him closely — she’d known just before stasis that he had been promoted to admiral, but she hadn’t had the chance to see him in command. She was not surprised to find he wore it well, shoulders set with the ease of a career soldier comfortable in his role. A few people glanced at his unusual entourage, but continued about their business.

The bridge itself was not unlike the _Telos_ ’, and they were led to the front viewports. The captain saluted, Carth responded, and the man held out his hand.

“Captain Kaylak, sir. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Ah, thanks,” Carth said. Revan leaned her hips back against a console. “I assume you’ve been briefed.”

“Vaguely.” He nodded, far more nervously, to her, and Revan tapped her hand to her forehead. “Ma’am.”

“Don’t get jumpy on my account, Captain,” she said. “Fleet’s firmly in Admiral Onasi’s command, not mine.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, still nervous. “We’re ready when you are, sir. Just waiting on coordinates.”

“Anna, if you would.” Carth nodded to the console behind her, and she mock-saluted again.

“Right away, _Admiral_.” She just caught the face Carth made whenever he was resisting rolling his eyes as she turned back, and she grinned.

“I’d like to address the crew.” Captain Kaylak nodded and walked him over to the shipboard intercom. Revan waved T3 over, and he plugged into the console as she knelt.

“Send these coordinates to the fleet’s navicomputers,” she murmured, before reciting them. T3 chirped. “Encrypt them heavily. If there are any Imperial spies aboard, I don’t want them getting them.” He chirped, and she nodded. “Junk coordinates, good idea. As long as the navicomputers can decrypt them, we’re good. Go ahead.” He chirped again and she rubbed his head, getting back to her feet as Carth opened the comm.

“Attention, dreadnought _Valiant_ ,” he started. “This is Admiral Onasi speaking. We are about to embark on an important mission that may save the Republic. It is, above all else, _top secret_. I cannot stress that enough.

“We will be locating, and then protecting, a factory intended to produce droids for the Republic’s war effort. The factory will be overseen by a Jedi contractor, while we attend to the _important_ details.” He looked back at Revan, who frowned at him. The captain glanced nervously between them. “We’ll be en route shortly and I will give more instructions while in hyperspace.”

“ _Important_ details,” she mocked. He almost smirked, and she decided that she _really_ liked Admiral Onasi.

“Have you fed the coordinates?” Carth asked, still completely professional. She narrowed her eyes a little.

“Yes, sir, coordinates are fed,” she replied. He echoed her narrowing eyes, and she grinned. “Fleet’s ready when you are … sir.”

“Anna,” he said, warning. She grinned a little wider. “Take us into hyperspace, Captain.”

As the captain prepared for hyperspace, Carth joined her by the console. “Have to say I’m fond of the Admiral,” Revan murmured, resting her hand on his arm. Carth frowned at her.

“Will you stop?” he muttered. “I’m trying to run a fleet, here.”

“I know.” She raised an eyebrow. “I _like_ it.”

“Oh, for.” Carth shook his head, ducking to her ear. “Keep it up, and I might have to invoke some _military_ discipline.”

“Oh?” She lowered her voice further. “Because I hear you’ve been a very naughty Jedi, Master Onasi.”

Carth bit his lip, hard, and a dark flush started above the collar of his uniform as he headed back to the captain. Revan smirked at his back, leaning against the console. “So, K,” she asked. “Any interest in touring a Republic ship?”

“ _Of course_ ,” she replied eagerly.

“We’ll wait for hyperspace. It’s been too long since I’ve seen a cap ship go in.” Khemmaa nodded, and the bustle on the bridge finally died back into pre-hyperspace levels. Ahead of them, Carth gave the order, and stars blurred past the windows as the fleet went into lightspeed.

Towards the Foundry, the thing Revan had spent so long protecting.

“Check,” she whispered.

#

Carth opted to stay on the bridge — he was chatting up the bridge staff when they left. Revan, Khemmaa, and the droids were halfway off the bridge when they were met by another aide, who saluted as he stopped them.

“Coporal Dain, ma’am,” he said. “I’ve been assigned to you during your stay on the _Valiant_.”

“Oh.” Revan hadn’t had a military aide following her around since she’d been Supreme Commander. She was torn between wondering if the Republic was simply trying to keep an eye on her, or if it was standard procedure — though what was “standard” about this operation eluded her. “Alright, then. If they’re free, I’d like to do the briefing with Master Yondo and the rest of the Jedi complement.”

Dain raised his hand to his ear. “Send Master Yondo and his entourage to Conference Room B. Right this way, ma’am.”

Revan and Khemmaa fell into step behind him. “I forgot how _nice_ it was to not focus on the mundane things,” she mumbled. “Sorry, K, business first.”

Khemmaa nodded. “ _Understandably._ ”

They reached the room first, though the complement wasn’t far behind. As the Jedi filed in, more than a few cast nervous looks at her. She frowned. An older Twi’lek approached her, extending his hand cautiously. “Master Yondo,” he said, with somewhat forced politeness, as she took it. “It’s an honor to meet you, Revan.”

Apparently, news of what happened on Tython was far from hush-hush.

“You don’t need to lie,” she replied.

“I said an _honor_ , not a _pleasure_ ,” Yondo retorted. Revan smirked.

“I want to brief you and yours on the Foundry before we arrive,” she continued. Khemmaa leaned back against the wall by the door, watching intently.

“Very well.” He settled down into a chair and motioned to the other Jedi to follow suit. Revan waved T3 forward, and he plugged into the table.

“Bring it up,” she ordered. T3 whistled and an image of the Foundry, carved into a massive asteroid, appeared above the table. Some of the Jedi leaned in — Yondo’s frown deepened, and he settled back in his chair.

“This is the Foundry,” Revan continued, motioning to it. “And our destination. It’s a massive Rakatan factory, not unlike the Star Forge of the Jedi Civil War. However, instead of destroying this one, we’re hoping to repurpose it.”

“If it’s Rakatan,” one of the Jedi mused. “Then it’ll be filled with the dark side.”

“Yes. Which is why _you’re_ all here. It will be a massive undertaking, but I suspect the energy can be cleared — or, at least, pushed back to marginal levels. I haven’t been to the Foundry yet but, judging from what I found on the Forge, I’m assuming the energy will be similar.”

“So what can we expect?” Yondo asked.

Revan drew a slow breath, frowning. “Walking onto the station for the first time, you’ll feel overwhelmed. It will amaze you that the Rakata could drench a structure in the Force. You'll feel sick. Some of you will feel worse than others -- it depends on your natural connection to the Force. Even the non-Sensitive crew will suffer some side effects. If -- and this is a big 'if,' for once -- I am right, and the energy is cleared, it will feel slightly stronger than the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

"After that you can head off to …” She waved her hand. “Tython or Coruscant or Hoth or wherever the hell else you’re told to head to. Now, I’m assuming you all know the process of purifying a nexus of dark sided energy?”

Most of the Jedi mumbled to one another. She sighed. “Raise your hand if you do.”

Yondo and one other, older Jedi did so. Revan sighed again, covering her eyes with her hand and shaking her head.

“Of _course_ you don’t.”


	20. RTFM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I said I was gonna be better than this lolsob. Anyway after a myriad of computer issues (read: my gaming laptop went into harddrive failure and then trying to build a new system went completely FUBAR and I haven't had the energy to pick it back up) and other issues with work, I've finally gotten my writing drive back. Good news for you guys, possibly not good news for my favorite trash daughter and the orange boyfriend we all deserve. Anyway. Foundry time! 

 

About a day later, the fleet left hyperspace in a remote system in the Unknown Regions. On the edge of a tiny system they found it, an asteroid nearly the size of a dwarf planet drifting through a wide asteroid belt. The fleet navigated it rather easily, and Revan directed them to a small docking tube on the right side of the station. She, Carth, Khemmaa, and the droids made their way to a shuttle on the _Valiant_ 's hangar deck.

"We'll clear the area and report back," she said. Carth stood by the shuttle ramp, concern etched across his face. As the fleet's commanding officer, he couldn't head onto the Foundry with her just yet, and the conflict was obvious from the set of his shoulders and the furrows in his brow. "If it's safe, I'll tell you to start attaching the prefab so we can get to work."

"Just … be careful," he replied with a frown.

"When am I not?"

"… do you want a list?"

Revan chuckled. "Ouch. That's fair." She motioned the others onto the shuttle and stepped onto the ramp herself. "I'll be careful, Carth. We'll be in constant comm contact, alright? But I'm expecting this place to be empty. The Star Forge was, mostly, so I'm assuming the Foundry will be."

He nodded and stepped forward, resting his hand on her waist. "Just leave if you think anything is wrong. Don't … you know, be yourself."

She chuckled, bouncing onto her toes and kissing him gently. "No promises, but I'll do my best."

Carth nodded and reluctantly released her, and Revan headed onto the shuttle. She slipped past Khemmaa, currently attempting to strap herself into a jumpseat a bit too small for an adult Wookiee, and settled down at the controls.

"All set back there?" she asked as she raised the shuttle's ramp. Khemmaa growled something that sounded part agreement, part frustration — Revan decided to take it as a yes. She pulled the shuttle out of the hangar, slipping out from the _Valiant_ 's hangar deck and into space. Behind them, the fleet began to take up a blockade position around the Foundry itself. She added another tally to the times she'd approved of Admiral Onasi's actions. "There's a small hangar next to the main entry. Until they get the prefab docking station up, that'll be the best way to get in. If it's still got some droids active this could be rough — have your bowcaster ready, just in case."

" _It's ready_."

She guided the shuttle into the waiting hangar, setting it down with a solid _thunk_. The hangar itself, clearly Rakata in design, was completely empty — hardly any dust stirred from the shuttle's drop.

"That's disquieting."

Revan had expected some defenses to still be online, even if it was simply to keep out those pesky slave races. She undid her strapping and climbed to her feet, lowering the shuttle's ramp. "Nothing so far. You're sure you're ready."

Khemmaa nodded. " _I am_."

Revan nodded, motioned to HK and T3, and headed off the shuttle.

The Force had been palpable inside the shuttle, but once outside, in the hangar, it bore down on her heavily. She reached out and steadied herself on the shuttle, drawing a sharp breath as the sensation settled itself behind her eyes, a thick, hard feeling somewhere between pressure and pain. It was the dark side, all right, not unlike the Star Forge had been when she'd first set foot on it — only now she was less impressionable. Revan shoved it away, though it still ached behind her eyes, and straightened herself up.

" _That feeling_ ," Khemmaa asked. " _What is it?_ "

"That would be the Force, K," Revan said. "The angry side of it, anyway. How are you doing?"

Khemmaa shook her head, batting a cascade of fur away from her face, and shrugged. " _It's unsettling, but I'll be fine._ "

"Just let me know if you want to turn back." Revan checked the clips on her lightsabers. "It's not going to get any better."

She nodded. " _I'll be fine_."

Revan nodded and motioned them after her, heading towards the exit from the hangar. The doors opened into a hallway, thick with mold and dust. Khemmaa sneezed. Revan carefully lashed a breather onto her face, and motioned for the Wookiee to do the same.

"Alright, Carth," she called over the comm. "We've made it off the hangar. Lots of dust in here — Khemmaa and I threw breathers on. Never know if the Rakata had a biological agent or something for us pesky slaves."

:: _You think they'd …_ :: Carth's voice, even over the comm, was thick with concern. She shook her head.

"No, no, I don't know. Either way, there's a ton of dust in here and I don't want to breathe it in." She waved Khemmaa forward and they started into the massive halls, a gray and brassy-colored stone lined with obelisk-shaped pillars, occasionally broken by a towering, spear-holding Rakatan statues.

" _This place is … enormous_ ," Khemmaa said, turning in a circle.

"The Rakata liked to build them big." They turned down another corridor. "Keep your eyes open for a terminal. HK, T3, any lifesigns?"

T3 chirped.

"Assessment: Negative."

Revan nodded back. "Let me know if that changes."

The air was thick with the Force, dust, and mold, almost thickening the further they went. Even Revan was starting to find it uncomfortable, rubbing her temples as she kept an eye out for a terminal. Or a map.

As they ventured deeper into the Foundry, they began to pass ancient droid carcasses. T3 slid closer to Revan's legs, bumping into her and whistling nervously.

"Hm, here's one," Revan said finally, spotting a terminal near a heavy, closed blast door. "How are you?"

" _Fine_ ," Khemmaa growled. " _It's just heavy_."

"Be glad you're not sensitive to it already," Revan replied as she plugged in. "I'll see if I can download a map."

T3 chirped, and she shook her head. "No, I don't want you plugging in until I'm sure the systems are clean." She flipped open her communicator. "Carth, we found a terminal. So far, no defenses. A lot of deactivated droids, but that's it."

:: _What do the droids say?_ ::

"No lifesigns." T3 chirped. "T3 says he's picking up some, but they look like they're on the surface."

:: _Get me some coordinates and I'll send a couple fighters around. Where are you at?_ ::

"I think …" Her hands paused on the terminal. "We should be getting close to the command center. I'll update you when we're there."

:: _Thanks. Be careful._ ::

"I always am, flyboy." The door ahead of them zipped open, and she pulled her hands off the console. "No map, and no way to access the Foundry's inner systems. We'll have to head for the command center."

" _How much further?_ "

"Not sure." She adjusted her robe and started through the door. "You still in?"

" _I'll be fine_."

#

It took a good hour for them to find their way through the Foundry, past hulking shells of droids not dissimilar to the ones that had haunted Lehon's Temple of the Ancients. The last door they found was enormous and highly decorated — and right before what Revan knew was a coalescing of negative Force energy, swirling just beyond the door. She glanced back at Khemmaa, her companion eying the door and holding her bowcaster with a little more pressure than strictly necessary.

"You can stay out here, if you want."

Khemmaa shook her head. " _I said I'd come in with you. So I will._ "

Revan laughed. "Have I mentioned how much I love Wookiees recently? Don't be afraid to bow out if it gets too bad. I won't have your father tracking me down." She echoed Revan's laugh with a recognizable growl.

The door opened into a wide room, a large, circular platform resting in the center of a massive cavern at the center of the asteroid. The top was open to the field above them, the _Valiant_ just visible over it, and disappeared farther than they could see. Smaller asteroids, still the size of a small shuttle, drifted through the hole above, down towards the pit beneath them. A forcefield glittered above, allowing the rocks through while keeping them safe from the threat of vacuum exposure.

The entire sight was awe-inspiring, even though Revan had seen similar structure on the Star Forge. The Rakata certainly knew how to build.

Her goal rested on the far edge of the platform, an enormous bank of computers decorated in an obvious Rakatan style. It looked so similar to ones in the Temple of the Ancients that she almost had a brief pang of homesickness for the time the Emperor had torn her from. Drawing her lips into a thin line, she started down the ramp towards the platform with Khemmaa, HK, and T3 on her heels.

"Carth," she said into the comm. "We're at the central control station. I'll report in once we're sure it's safe."

:: _Copy. Be careful._ ::

As they approached the computer, she could almost feel the facility stutter to life around her. Lights tentatively flickered down the computer, then became a constant stream. A panel flared to life on the vast computer bank — as she drew within reach of it, the computer spoke.

The dialect was recognizable as ancient Rakatan — the same one the Star Forge had used, but not the same as the computer in the Temple of the Ancients. This one she only barely understood, but she was fairly certain it threatened her. She cleared her throat.

"Hello. Is there a way to adjust your language output?"

The computer whirred for a few minutes, finally settling on the ancient dialect of Selkath that the Rakata droid on Dantooine had once used. " _I can speak any of the languages spoken by the slaves of the Builders._ "

Revan sighed. Here they went again.

"Charming. How long has it been since you saw a Builder?"

" _It has been one hundred thirty-six revolutions of this station._ "

She looked back at T3, who quickly ran the calculation and chirped. Twenty-seven thousand years. Accurate enough. "Great. We're here to take control of the Foundry. I'm familiar with the mechanisms of the Star Forge itself, so I don't think it'll be too challenging."

The computer paused, obviously parsing this new information. " _How could a non-Builder gain access to the heart of the Infinite Empire_?"

"Long story. Not important." She waved her hand. "Either way, I hate to bear bad news, but the Builders aren't coming back. Not today, probably not ever. I've seen them, and it's not good. They're confined to their homeworld, non-spacefaring, and had no interest in becoming spacefaring again three hundred years ago. I haven't been back since, but I also haven't seen any, so I assume that has not changed."

The computer paused again. " _What became of the Star Forge?_ "

"It blew up. I had nothing to do with it."

Another pause. " _Very well,_ " it said, somehow sounding resigned. " _I will allow access to the Foundry._ "

"Great. T3, go ahead and chat. Just be prepared to back out if you need to." T3 chirped and rolled forward. "Get me a map, then go through the system. We'll check out the lines."

T3 carefully plugged himself into the computer, and after a moment, chirped and opened a datapad port on his top. Revan plugged hers in, downloaded the map he gave her, and waved Khemmaa back down the walkway. "That went better than expected," she said with a sigh.

" _What did_?"

"The computer. The one on the Star Forge was an ass. 'Slave race' this and 'you're not my real mom' that. Almost intolerable."

Khemmaa laughed. " _What now?_ "

"We're going to check out Lines One and Two. I want to start trying to get something done today — the faster we work this factory out, the faster we start getting droids to the Republic."

She nodded. " _What are you expecting_?'

"Some debris on the lines, mostly. Unfinished Rakata droids. We'll have to see when we get there." Revan opened her commlink. "Hey, Carth. We made it to central control. The station should be reactivating."

:: _We noticed. Is it safe to begin attaching the prefabs?_ ::

"Get the stylus-necks looking at the scans and go ahead. Khemmaa and I are taking a look at the production lines."

:: _Will do. Be careful._ ::

"Always am." She clipped the commlink back to her belt. "Alright, K, let's see what we can find."

#

Had Revan not seen the Star Forge, she would be unprepared for the magnitude of the Foundry. Considering she _had_ , the Foundry was only marginally impressive.

Once outside the main control chamber and the main entrances, assembly lines ran kilometers into the asteroid's depths, as chunks of asteroid drifted ever downward. They were small lines — not really _assembly_ , more like _sudden construction_ , not unlike the ones Malak had weaponized to slow her down. Revan ran her hand along one of the tall, pillar-like structures with a slight shudder.

"How are you?" she asked. The energy was still strong down here, though not as bad as the central control room. Khemmaa shrugged.

" _I think I'm adapting._ "

"You probably are." They wandered through the production lines, clearing the minimal rubble they found. "This is so odd."

" _How?_ "

"It's like the Rakata just powered everything off and left." Revan raised her comm. "T3?" The droid chirped back. "Have you isolated any defenses?"

:: _/ Defenses = yes. / Active = no. / T3 = turn on? /_ ::

"No! Not yet. We'll see if we can modify the IFFs before that — I'll look when we get back." Revan glanced back at HK. "Any lifesigns?"

"Assessment: None yet, Master."

"Good." She shook her head. "It just feels … odd. But the Star Forge didn't have _many_ active defenders when Malak and I found it. Only a few, mostly droids nearly rusted out." It'd been the same in the Temple of the Ancients — of the droids present when she, Jolee, and Juhani had fought their way through, they'd been reactivated by her Sith forces several years earlier. Their technology was robust, but not _that_ robust. "I suspect the energy is just making me uneasy, that's all."

Her comm chirped again, this time from Carth.

:: _How does it look_? ::

"Quiet so far. T3 found some inactive defenses, so I'll look at modifying their IFFs tonight. The sooner we get them up, the happier I'll be." She raised some fallen debris from a doorway and cast it aside with her hand. "As for this place, well, it's like the Rakata shut down and just left. The slave races must have never found it. Most of the lines look clear so far — we can probably start a few test batches tomorrow. I'd say a week at the most before we're in full operation."

:: _Good. They're taking a look at the hanger now. Oh, Yondo wants an update._ ::

Revan sighed. "Of course he does. He there?"

:: _I am._ :: The Jedi Master's calm voice interjected. She chuckled.

"You are in for a _hell_ of a ride, Yondo. This place is as expected. I'd say let most of your Jedi stay on board until we're about ready to try it. You should pop over at some point to see what you're dealing with, but I give you about twenty minutes before your nose starts bleeding."

:: _Charming._ ::

"Pull your stick out your ass," she mumbled. Khemmaa chuckled. "Anyway, Yondo, I think we should be able to clear this energy. We may have to go level by level, but the worst bit seems to be in the central control room. We'll start there — it might dissipate and reorganize on its own."

:: _I will begin making proper preparations._ ::

Revan rolled her eyes. "Great. We'll make sure the factory's clear, and get back to you, Carth."

:: _Keep me updated. Be careful._ ::


	21. The Color of Shadow

They met back up with Carth nearly twelve hours later as the scientists finally finished attaching the prefabs to the Foundry's surface. Revan opened the door to the hangar and found him waiting at an almost perfect parade rest.

"You're all right?" he asked, quickly scanning them both. She nodded, pulling off her breather. Khemmaa followed suit, growling when the strap got stuck in her fur – Revan took a moment to help her untangle herself.

"No defenses, T3's scrubbing them right now. I'll reactivate once we figure out their IFFs. Just a lot of dust." She motioned to the door. "Until Yondo and I deal with the energy, I'd prefer we limit exposure to the Foundry's interior. The energy should be worse on Force Sensitives, but —"

"I can feel it. It's certainly—"

"Well, that'd be because you're Force Sensitive."

Carth blinked. "I … oh. Right." She'd said that before, on Korriban, and told him not to think too much of it. (" _Well, don't say anything around Bastila. She'll probably haul you off to Vrook, too._ ")

Revan started by him, patting his shoulder. "It's okay, flyboy. It's more of a hassle than it's worth."

Carth started after her, Khemmaa lagging behind and closely studying the prefabs. HK waited by the Foundry door, eyes flickering and gun ready.

"On our end, we've set up the living quarters, lab, and fixed the docking tube. So, we're done."

"And I saw you moved into a blockade position?"

"Yeah. I figured if the Empire's going to find this place, we may as well be ready."

"Good. That's what I was hoping you'd figure."

"How long until we can get the factory rolling?"

Revan shrugged. "Nothing looks damaged. Like I said, I'd say a week to full production – if I work slow. I've already got T3 feeding some schematics into the system for testing so we'll see what he says."

"Also." Carth stopped. Revan took a couple steps further before realizing it, and turned back. "Yondo wants onto the station."

She sighed. "Of course he does. Has he said anything else about it?"

"Just that he wants to see what he's dealing with. I said he'd have to talk to you, first. Apparently…" Carth grinned. "He thinks I have some control over you."

Revan laughed, smoothing out the collar of his uniform. "Well," she replied, looking up at him through her lashes with a smirk. "Only sometimes. Where is he?"

"Still on the ship. Given what… well." He glanced back towards the Foundry's door, looming and threatening in the distance. "Given what something like this did to _you_ , I trust your assessment of it over his."

"What was his?"

"That you're overreacting."

Revan snorted. "If Yondo steps on here — underprepared, I'm sure — every negative emotion he pretends he doesn't have will completely overwhelm him. If he thinks that's a risk he's willing to take then by all means, he can come aboard."

"You'll tell him that. The Jedi complement is _your_ responsibility."

She thrust her lip out. "Yondo doesn't want to listen to me."

He shook his head. "He won't listen to me either, gorgeous. You've never had the experience of a Jedi walking all over your non-Force Sensitive crew. You've _been_ said Jedi."

She pouted more. "I never—"

"I distinctly recall horror stories from the Mandalorian Wars about you."

"Carth Onasi! I was a model commander!"

"Says you. I had a friend on your flagship. He said you were a nightmare."

"After everything I've…" Revan frowned and trailed off. "Fine. Maybe I was a bit of a nightmare. But _only_ because there were Mandalorians _everywhere_."

Carth chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Go take care of Yondo. Khemmaa, where are you heading?"

Khemmaa shrugged and mumbled something. Revan laughed. "Yes, I'm sure they've set up the mess, K."

#

The look on Yondo's face as Revan led him off the _Valiant_ was not one she would forget quickly. He was already displeased from being around her, so the thick, negative energy looming a little further into the station gave him a poetic expression of fervent disgust.

"As I'd said earlier," Revan was saying as Carth rejoined her aboard the Republic's living quarters. "The energy here is nasty, and I'm slightly insulted that you didn't believe me."

Yondo frowned. "I have never felt this type of… evil."

Revan stared at Carth with an indescribable expression of long-suffering. He coughed into his hand. "It's negative, not evil," she replied. "You haven't seen evil. This is just the Force in a bad mood."

"Your flippancy is not welcome." The Twi'lek's tone was sharp. Revan repeated her look, and Carth coughed again. "I am well aware of what evil feels like, Revan. Perhaps you need to reacquaint _yourself_."

"Well, frak you too." Revan's reply was just as sharp. "I don't _have_ to show you the Foundry. Hell, I don't even needyour help. I can go about using the Foundry for its intended purposes, and you can oversee your people clearing the energy your _self_. All it's doing is giving me a headache."

Yondo was silent, but motioned towards the Foundry. Revan resumed walking toward the door.

"That's the problem with the Jedi," she muttered as Carth joined her. "They're too willing to dismiss whatever they don't understand."

"An overly simplistic view of the situation," Yondo said. "And evidence that your own experience has taught you very little."

"On the contrary, it taught me a lot. Perhaps you should try it."

"Look," Carth said as they reached the door to the Foundry proper. "Both of you are here to do a job. Arguing about it won't help anyone."

"Loathe as I am to say it, he's right," Revan said. Carth grinned.

"I'd better make a note of the date."

"Shut up," she replied, raising her hand towards the Foundry door. "Keep your head in here, Yondo, I'd hate tell Satele you went insane."

"I am not worried about _me_ ," he replied pointedly. Revan rolled her eyes and pressed a large, square button in the middle of the door.

"Are you coming, Carth?"

"Of course I am."

She nodded, and motioned them after her.

Carth's jaw nearly dropped as they headed inside. He'd gone with Revan, Canderous, and Jolee onto the Star Forge and, though that had been much grander, he'd almost forgotten the magnificence of Rakatan architecture. The halls towered above them, the stone elegantly carved, enormous statues holding spears positioned in niches set every several meters. HK fell in behind them, metal feet clacking on the stone over the echoes of their own boots.

The silence was almost deafening.

"I expected more resistance," Yondo said. "The Rakata left no defenses?"

"Even droids give out after a while. Rakatan droids are robust, but not magical." Yondo's frown deepened. "I was expecting biological agents, but T3 cleared the facility."

"Your droid."

"Yes, my droid. Try to sound less put out about it." Carth chuckled. Revan glared at him as she continued. "He's currently plugged into the Foundry's mainframe."

"Is that safe?"

"Yes."

"Are you placing too much faith in this droid?"

"Hey—" Carth started.

Revan raised her finger. "Don't you dare insult my son again. T3 is smarter than you are."

"I—"

"Wait, do you _actually_ think of T3—"

"Of course I do, Carth. Congratulations on your re-fatherhood."

"Please don't tell me HK…"

Revan looked over at him, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Murder Son? Of course." He frowned at her, and she motioned to Yondo with her eyes — the Twi'lek's frown had gotten impossibly deeper. Carth shook his head, but couldn't help grinning. Her sniping with Yondo was, at least, distracting him from the aching pressure behind his eyes.

Finally they reached the central platform, rocks drifting down into the Foundry's depths. T3 turned his head back from the console and chirped as they joined him. Revan leaned back against the console, crossing her arms. Carth stared up, gaping openly at the ship above them and the asteroids doomed to being harvested in the Foundry's core. This was enormous! When he looked back at Revan, she was grinning.

"The energy is much stronger here," Yondo said.

"Told you."

"And you are sure this is safe to use?"

"Yes."

Yondo stared at her. "You are _sure_ this is safe to use?"

"Get your hand away from your belt." Carth glanced down at his, before noticing Yondo's hand straying awfully close to his lightsaber. Revan's was hovering over her own. "I don't want to tell Satele that you pushed your luck."

Yondo frowned again. "Is it s—"

" _Yes._ I know what I am doing. You do not. Now that you have an idea, we should leave."

Without waiting for an answer, Revan stalked past them and back up the ramp. Carth shook his head as Yondo looked at him.

"You heard her, Master Jedi. After you."

#

Carth, once Yondo was back on the _Valiant_ , joined Revan in the central control room with a bottle of painkillers tucked in his uniform pocket. She looked up as he approached and stepped back from the console.

"This really doesn't bother you?" he asked.

"It does, just not as badly as everyone else."

Carth frowned. "Why?" Was she lying to him about her intentions? Had she actually fallen again? Was it not affecting her because — Revan sighed, rested her hands on his waist, and stared up at him with sincerity.

"Carth, whatever doomsday scenario is running through your head, I promise, I'm fine. I'm less affected because I've achieved balance in the Force, that's all. The energy here gives me a mild headache because it's _very_ dark, and _very_ strong. I promise, I'm fine."

"You aren't just telling me that."

"Of course not." She shook her head. "I lied to you once, and I regretted it for far too long."

"I just… I don't understand what it means. I mean, I don't think you care about the Sith, but you're so hostile to the Jedi, and —"

"The Jedi tried to erase my memories and brainwash me into loyal compliance."

"True."

"The Sith just, well." Revan scratched her chin. "I'm neither, and both. It's hard to explain. I'd say I have the benefits of both without their limitations, but I've only had a few months of real-life testing. Before this, it was mostly contemplation while in stasis." He nodded. "That, and it would be somewhat pretentious."

"You are nothing if not pretentious, gorgeous."

"Rude. But I am not whatever you're afraid of, I promise. I'm not… I'm not going to be _her_ again."

Carth nodded. "I didn't think you were. I _do_ trust you."

"Even after I lied to you for like, three months about leaving?"

"Even after that. I'm just understandably concerned."

"I know." She laced her fingers into his and smiled. "Want to go see the lines in action, Admiral? Inspect the Republic's newest factory?"

"Lead the way."

Revan led him out of the control room, into one of the branching arcs off the main halls. The lines stretched much deeper underneath the control room, holding a silent vigil to the asteroids floating downward. He didn't see any actual assembly lines.

"Where are they?"

To their left, a triangular structure in the ceiling flashed, and he jumped. Underneath it appeared a regular protocol model that took a couple steps forward, saw them, and stopped.

"Right there." Revan dropped his hand and approached the droid. "State your operating number?"

"MD-18A."

"Hm." She frowned. "It's been an hour and it's only turned out eighteen?" Revan opened her comm. "T3, Line A is being sluggish."

"Eighteen in an hour?!"

"It's a bit slow, right?"

"What? No! A normal factory line turns out ten droids an hour — how —"

"Just be thankful these are friendly. Continue to your endpoint, 18A." The droid started deeper into the factory. "Remember on the Star Forge, when Bastila locked you and Jolee out and I had to continue on without you?"

"Yeah."

"There was one of these rooms in between me and Malak." She waved her hand at the production apparatus. "He decided to weaponize them."

"You're kidding."

"Trust me, you haven't known fear until six of these start firing at once with hostile spider droids."

"Why spider droids?" He'd think Malak would have chosen a heavy tank droid or something, especially to stop the woman who was both his former master and one of the most powerful Force-users of her generation.

"He always had a thing for arachnids."

"Forget I asked."

"Done." She took his hand again. "Down here is the testing area. I have a couple military models running right now."

"I thought you weren't doing military models yet."

"Just for testing."

She led him to a small room that overlooked a vast, wide arena. Two tank droids were battling it out, while a protocol droid took notes from the windows.

"Carth, meet TS-13. She's freeing me up to do other things by overseeing testing."

"Greetings, Admiral Onasi," the droid said, glancing over her shoulder before returning to the testing floor ahead of them. "The tank droids are performing well, master. They should easily outstrip comparable Imperial models."

"Good." They watched for a moment. Finally, one droid stumbled to the floor and went dark on TS' screen. Revan winced. "I never like seeing droids die. Can we run a group fire simulation?"

"I will contact T3-M4 and request the appropriate units."

They waited less than five minutes before two sets of droids streamed through opposite sides of the testing room, two tank droids and around ten battle droids, tall and bipedal with narrow heads.

"It's an older model, but I've always liked it," she said. "The head has the major processing units, and it's compact, so harder for anyone but a dedicated sniper to hit. These test models have limited functionality — makes me feel better about losing them."

Carth nodded. TS tapped her stylus against her datapad. "Testing proceeds in three… two… one."

The two groups of droids started into combat. The tank droids targeted one another, almost immediately, while the others skirted around the edges and sniped at one another from the sides of the tanks.

"Huh," Revan said. "They're showing a surprising amount of group cohesion for having minimal programming."

"Hm?"

Revan pointed out the droids' tactics, with the smaller droids using the tank for cover and the tank relying on them for support. Carth nodded, listening as she mused over their combat programs, often dipping into droid theory far too obscure for him to understand. One group's tank finally went down, and the remaining smaller droids were easily picked off without their cover.

"I wonder if there's some base programming the Foundry inserts into their droids," she mused.

"You could always ask."

"Yeah." Revan looked over at TS. "Hey, TS, is there some base unit code that the Foundry inserts into their droids?"

TS' head tilted towards her with the most incredulous look a droid could manage.

"I meant the computer," he said.

"Oh. Right. Sorry, TS. Can you copy the testing holos to my datapad? I'd like to send a decent bit of information to Rans on the first report."

"I'll forward them to T3, master."

"Thanks."

Carth looped his arm around her waist, pulling her into him as they started back towards the Republic base. "I see why you said this could win the war."

"Let's just hope it does."


	22. Clap Your Hands All Ye Children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the delay in this chapter. The latter part was really difficult to write just because it was tough to find the actual words for it. We should be good for a couple weeks, though, as long as I remember to update.  
> This and the next two chapters pull their titles from Anberlin's "A Whisper and a Clamor"

 

Command was pleased with Carth’s report about the Foundry operations and Revan’s testing vids. The third day after landing on the Foundry, with lines A-C churning out medical and surveillance droids, Revan began to create her military models.

Near the end of the second week she found Carth in the Republic mess on the station’s edge. Carth frowned as he studied her. She’d been harder to read since they’d gotten onto the Foundry, but the deep furrow in her brow and the grip her teeth had on her lower lip were rather clear.

“You all right?”

She frowned deeper, her gray eyes looking remarkably more stormy. “Can I borrow you, Admiral?”

He nodded and followed her through the station to the Foundry door. She shoved her hand into the lock and stepped through, motioning him after her. Once through, she glanced around furtively and closed the door.

“Now you’re really acting strange.”

Revan stared at her hands. “Shush,” she mumbled. “Look, Carth, I’ve been digging around in the Foundry’s systems, and I need you to override me.”

“Oh, no. Go ahead.”

“I, ah —” Revan sighed, running her hand through her hair. “There’s not really a good way to say this. I found some code that the Rakata used in their droids. It’s a programming subroutine that tracks concentrated genetic ancestry, similar to the one I have in HK’s assassination protocols.”

“What does that mean?”

“I suppose the Rakata used it to keep their slave races in line. You have a Twi’lek uprising, you get your droids to target Twi’leks, that sort of thing. It can be as narrow as a family lineage or as wide as an entire species. But …”

Carth’s eyes narrowed. If he was right – Force, he hoped he wasn't. “But _what_.”

“I could set it to anything. I could set it to engage everyone with Sith ancestry. It’s completely automated.” She looked away again, back into the Foundry. “We could end the war, the Emperor, everything, once and for all. The Empire would never recover.”

“The Empire would never — what figures are we talking about, Anna?”

“That’s the thing, Carth. I…”

She trailed off, and his eyes narrowed further. “ _Anna_.”

“T3 ran the numbers,” she said. “It’s 98.7 percent of the Imperial population. Nearly all of it.”

“That’s trillions of people! How the hell can you even consider it?”

“It’s strategic!” she defended, beginning to pace. “It wins the war, soundly! It takes out the Sith and the Dark Council. _Probably_ the Emperor too, if they can get close enough. It’d save another trillion lives in the Republic by ending the war. It’d be decisive. Quick. But—”

“Anna!” he interrupted, resting his hands on her shoulders. “If you commit genocide, how does that make you any better than they are?”

“War isn’t about morality. You know that.”

“No, it isn’t. But there has to be a line somewhere. Genocide is definitely that line.” She looked away, and he narrowed his eyes. “You did it once with the Mandalorians, and I know you regretted it.” She nodded. “If you do it now, you’ll regret it again. Listen to me, Anna. You told me to stop you before you reached this point. Please _let_ me.”

Revan sighed and scrubbed her eyes with her sleeve. “No, no, you’re right.”

“Delete that code.”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Thanks, Carth.”

He frowned. “Promise me you’re going to delete it.”

“I’ll remove it from the Foundry’s systems forthwith.”

“Good.” He thumbed circles onto her arms, concern etching his face. There were thick, dark circles under her eyes, like she hadn’t slept in days again, and the lines at their corners somehow seemed deeper. “When was that last time you slept?”

“I’ve been coding. I don’t know.”

That explained why she’d been out of bed the past few nights. “Come on. You need sleep.”

“I have work to do, Carth, I—”

“You think irrationally when you don’t sleep.”

“I’m perfectly rational. In a war like this, that is pragmatism. Not using it is _mercy_. Not being able to decide isn’t being irrational.”

Carth slid his hands up to her chin, leaned down, and gently pressed his lips to hers. She frowned, but didn’t pull away. “Get some sleep.”

“The Sith are going to find this place eventually. I need to —”

“You won’t do anything if you work yourself to death.”

“Fine!” Revan wagged her finger at him. “But if this place falls apart, I won't be blamed for it.”

Carth steered her back towards the Republic prefabs. “I’m sure we can take care of it while you take a nap.”

Once back in the small room they were sharing, he nudged her towards the bed. Revan grumbled but dutifully started forward, shrugging out of her belts, tabard, and robe before settling down on the edge to toe off her boots.

“Are you joining me?”

“I’m technically on duty.”

She frowned. “Can you stay until I’m asleep?”

“Fine.” Revan tucked herself under the covers, and Carth slid in next to her. He opened his arms, and she nestled into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she finally mumbled.

“Hm?”

“About that. I’m supposed to be better than that, now. You probably— ”

“I don’t.”

“Huh?” She raised her head.

“I said, I don’t.” Carth rested his head against the wall. “Look. I can forgive a lot of things, but I don’t think I can that. But I _know_ you. You would have done the right thing.”

Revan frowned, but nestled her head back against his chest. “A lot of things have changed, Carth. I hope you’re right.”

He squeezed her arm. “I’m sure I am.”

#

Revan ordered Carth to pull the Republic soldiers and scientists off the station at the end of the week.

She didn’t expect the Jedi to cause problems. But she was about to walk a good thirty Jedi into a dark-oriented facility, most of whose only exposure to it had been “don’t,” and she didn’t want to take that risk. So as they disembarked from the _Valiant_ , she waited inside the Republic part of the station with a box. “Lightsabers in here, please.”

Yondo had already walked off the ship with a displeased frown, and this made the corners of his mouth drop further. “Rev—”

Revan motioned with the box. “Mine are on that table, if you haven’t noticed.”

“You do not need a weapon to kill us.”

She smirked. “While that’s noted, I am trying to salvage this station. To do that, I need you. I am already prepared to keep my head in here — are you, considering the last time?”

Against the rules of humanoid anatomy, Yondo somehow managed to frown further. But he unclipped his weapon from his belt and set it on the table next to hers.

“I will inform the Grand Ma—”

“Fine, I don’t care. Satele doesn’t control me. In fact, she’s my great-granddaughter, so if anyone’s listening to anyone —” Yondo, unable to frown further, narrowed his eyes. She grinned. “What, you think me screwing Onasi and not Shan changed that? Head over to the door and wait.”

There was only minor grumbling from the rest as they left their lightsabers either on the table or in the box, and joined Yondo by the doors. Yondo didn’t like her — she wouldn’t say hate, but it was certainly more than mild dislike — but she was sure he wouldn’t risk his charges unnecessarily.

Besides, he’d seen the control room. One good Force-wave would take care of that problem.

Once all Jedi were accounted for, Revan followed them to the door. “I assume you’ve already terrorized them with nightmare stories about the dark side?” she asked. Yondo huffed.

“I have informed them of the dangers, yes.”

“Cut those warnings in half and you’ll be about right. Keep your center in the Force, and you’ll be fine.” She studied them for a moment. “The energy will cause anything from a mild headache to feeling sick. If you need to stop, let us know. If, and I mean _if_ , you feel uncontrollable anger, fear, lust, or anything your Masters told you you’re not supposed to —” She glanced at Yondo. “— say something. We’ll walk you through dealing with it.

“The most important thing is to never forget your center. If you remain confident in your ability, you will be fine.”

A few of the Jedi were already looking a little sick. She sighed. “Well, the sooner we get this over with. We’re heading into the worst of it first. Hopefully we can clear the energy there and make this place more tolerable for everyone.”

“We should meditate here to prepare ourselves,” Yondo said. Revan sighed.

“Go ahead.”

She walked a few steps away and settled down on a chair near the door as the Jedi took their places. They’d probably be at this for an hour, if Yondo was the sort of Jedi she suspected. Good time to take a nap.

#

She was off by about two hours, the latter of which she spent sending dirty messages to Carth’s mail. Finally, Yondo stood.

“You lot ready?”

“Yes.”

Revan got to her feet and motioned towards the door. The Jedi lined up silently behind her, and she pressed the lock in. Her thoughts drifted unwillingly to a different time she’d stood in front of a door like this, Malak behind her, at another concentration of dark energy. Long before the Emperor, long before they’d fully fallen. She pushed it aside.

“Follow me.”

As Revan stepped through the door, she raised her commlink. A few of the Jedi behind her gasped as they followed her into the corridor, and Yondo's disapproval continued to radiate off him.

“M-ma’am?” one of the Jedi stuttered. “Was the Star Forge like this?”

She glanced back. “Architecturally, this is like a freighter to the Forge’s dreadnought. Energy-wise … the Star Forge was worse.”

The Jedi drew a sharp breath, and they pressed on. She opened her line to Carth.

“We’re heading in.”

Revan kept a close eye on the Jedi as they drew closer to the command center, and where she planned to focus their efforts. Hopefully the entire Foundry could be cleared from here, and she could send Yondo off on his merry way and be free of him once and for all.

She looked back over as they reached the control center door. Several of the Jedi were pale, the color drained completely from their faces. A few were shaking.

“Everyone still thinking happy thoughts?”

Yondo huffed. Revan shrugged and pushed open the door, heading towards the lazily drifting, doomed asteroids. A few of the Jedi gasped at the vastness of the command center, even as they followed her closer to the center of the dark energy. As she passed, HK’s head gently swiveled from the side of the ramp. Ready as always.

She brushed aside the last time she’d taken a group of Jedi into a place this dark.

“Circle up in the center of the platform,” Revan directed. The central control had an odd sound quality — her voice bounced off nothing, just the protective shield that blocked the platform from the vacuum. T3 turned his top and released a quiet, echoing _dwoo_. Normally she didn’t notice the echo. Now, all her senses were primed, ready, on edge.

She knew this tension, and she didn’t like it. She suspected the energy made it worse.

Yondo nodded when a few of the Jedi looked to him, and they slowly took their places.

“Meditate however is best for you,” she said. “You’ll need to firmly seat yourself in the Force. Don’t half-ass it. When you can actually see the energy around you, you’ll be deep enough.” Revan glanced at one of the Miraluka Jedi, standing to Yondo’s left. “You guys are exempt from that, but you have a better handle on this sort of thing.”

As the Jedi began to settle down, Yondo turned to her. “Will you be assisting us?”

“What type of Force-user do you take me for? Of course I will be.”

“Will you be of _use_ clearing dark energy?”

“Look, I don’t know what Kaedan’s been saying about me, and I’m pretty sure Satele sent you to annoy me. But I have reached a state of equilibrium in the Force, therefore, I _will_ be of use. If you’d pull your lekku out of your cloaca, you’d know that.”

Yondo frowned, but settled on the floor. Revan tugged a bundle of strung, clay beads out of a pocket, rolling her thumb over them. She usually practiced footwork, or lightsaber drills, when she needed to deeply meditate. But here it would be impractical, so this would have to do.

“When you’ve achieved that depth, maintain it. I’ll give further instructions once the majority of us are there.”

A few of the Jedi looked to Yondo again, and he nodded. As she felt them reach deeply for the Force, Revan hesitated.

She had not tried this since getting out of stasis — now she would need to go even deeper than her spying trips on Vitiate’s station. Her connection to him sat heavy and fractured at the back of her mind, a reminder that he could come through at any time. She knew that drowning herself with the Force would make it much easier for him to reach her, or vice-versa, and she did not want to know how doing so in the middle of a heavily negative space station might empower him.

But Revan drew a deep breath, closed her eyes, and dove.

The Force burst around her. She could see everything, the bright slashes of the Jedi around her to the few lifeforms clinging to the Foundry’s surface, the life sparking in the Republic warships around them. Carth’s anxiety thrummed through their bond, from his position up on the _Valiant’s_ bridge. And further, much further away, was the dark sucking hole of the Emperor.

He didn’t seem to be on Dromund Kaas. In fact, he wasn’t even as present as usual. Odd. What was —

She jerked her attention back to the Foundry, keeping a watchful mind on his position. If he stirred even once she was ready to pull herself out, but his current business was none of hers. Yet.

The blackness of the nexus was immediately visible, choking in its entirety. Slowly, one-by-one, the meditating Jedi appeared through it, bright specks of light against the darkness.

“Are we all here?” This deep in the Force it was more of a thought than words, but affirmations quietly flooded back to her. She ran the clay beads between her thumb and forefinger and cleared her throat. “Focus on light, whether that’s literal or figurative. Purification, nullification, the opposite of what you feel now. Focus and hold to that. If you do it right, the energy should disperse.”

From far above her, like it came from the surface of the ocean, T3 released a quiet dwoo. The energy around them stirred, swirling around them, the air crackling against her skin.

“It may fight. Ignore it.”

As the blazing light from the Jedi began to force the shadow into retreat, a presence began to envelop her. Revan scowled, but held her ground. This one was familiar, not the darkness of the Emperor, but the brightness of something else. Normally, she would have run from it. Her experiences with Force entities made her leery of interacting with them at all, regardless of apparent alignment. This was far from the first time she’d met this one, and the grating, vaguely disturbing female voice was not a surprise.

_Child_ , this one breathed and, for the first time, Revan regretted bringing others on board for this.

_I’m a little busy, thanks._

_A long time we waited. We worry._

_Don’t._

An odd breeze rustled her hair. _We will. For you we waited. For us you live._

_I live for myself._

_There is much you know not. You still must learn. Even you, who has learned so much, must never stop._

_I’m in the middle of something, if you don’t mind._

To her surprise, there was a quiet laugh. _You are many things to many things. The wall, and the gate. The hypergiant star to the supermassive black hole._

She was sure her unease flickered in the Force. _You speak of the Emperor._

_The Emperor? He, too, has been many things to many things. There is more of him that you see not, but you must. You must._

_What?_

The presence faded around her, a last lingering thought in the ever-flowing currents of the Force. _You will … you will._

Revan looked up again, back to the nexus. The negative black cloud was whirling now, a tornado within the circled Jedi. She stepped forward, more into the circle, and reached for it. As her fingers touched it, electric sparked from the cloud to her, and she sank her arm in it to the elbow. This was the easy part.

A life long lost, loyalties long past their prime, a love that had surpassed even time itself. She wrapped herself in it and sent it deep into the heart of the Foundry with as much of her power, and the power of those around her, as she could muster.

The immediate change was nearly blinding. Light flooded into the vortex, permeating it like a star’s rays through a cloud. For a moment it overwhelmed even her, and she threw her arm up over her eyes. It burst through the Force like a beacon, quivering the web that extended far past the Foundry and the ships to Tython, and Coruscant, and even toward that sucking black mass far, far distant. She lowered her arm.

The nexus had exploded back to its usual size, a large, nebulous cloud strongest at the core of the Foundry’s command center. Revan lowered her hand. No sign of the dark, oppressive negative energy remained. Now it was just a gray tracing of light on the netting of the Force, a comfortable blankness that was perfect, if a little cool, on her skin.

“It’s done,” she said. “Go ahead and pull yourselves out.”

From her left, Yondo’s disapproving voice cut through the Force. “It is not done.”

“The nexus is reset. That was the goal.”

“The nexus is blank.”

“No, it’s neutralized. That is better for the long-term running of this factory.” Revan drew herself back out of the Force, returning solidly to the command platform of the Foundry. “T3, are we online?”

T3 chirped and rocked on his struts. Yondo was the next to emerge, and the other Jedi began to stir around them. Revan paced to the console, looking over the Foundry’s systems as the factory hummed back to life.

“Something was said to you.”

She cleared her throat. “The Foundry is operating much better than anticipated, with the nexus neutral. I suspect it would see similar outputs if we took it to the oth—”

“The Force spoke to you.”

“It wasn’t the Force. It was a Force entity that likes to bother me if I go that deeply into it, there’s a difference.” She glanced at him. “The Force isn’t alive. It doesn’t _speak_ , not like that.”

“So quickly your forget your—”

“The lessons of a group of fuddies who haven’t left a Temple in years?” Yondo’s mouth drew into a thin line. “My understanding of the Force is practical, not theoretical. The Force has never itself spoken, not to me nor any other. And, if the Force _did_ have a will, then we should all be afraid.”

“It is not—”

“Hell, take me for example. My entire life has been a series of mishaps, mistakes, bad ideas, and pain. I can either blame the Force, if I believe the Force has a will, or I can take responsibility for myself. I’ve watched Jedi Councils and Masters refuse to take action because they waited for some miraculous guidance from the Force — in fact, my own prominence is due to it. The Force has no will, and the Force cannot act. It can be acted upon. That is all.”

“You pretend to know so much. Your ego is matched only by your ignorance. And where have you learned these lessons? At the foot of the Sith Emperor. Y—”

Revan took a few seconds to count backwards from fifteen. “Vitiate taught me nothing but pain and anger. I learned the nature of the Force standing in the midst of the Mandalorian genocide of Cathar, on the glass fields of Serocco, within the fires on Telos. They taught me clearly that the Force cannot have a will — and that if it does, it is not on our side.” Yondo opened his mouth, and she turned back to the console. “Or, did the atrocities that the Republic and the Empire have committed during _this_ war not teach you the same thing?”

Yondo closed his mouth. “Then we have learned differently from our experiences.”

“We have.”

“It is something to consider.”

“I spent three hundred years considering it.” Revan’s comm chirped, and she tugged it off her belt. “Revan.”

:: _Hey._ :: It was almost as if Carth could sense the brewing tension in the Foundry’s control chamber. :: _How’s it going?_ ::

“We’re done.”

There was a quiet pause. :: _I thought as much. We felt a pulse about a minute ago, I thought that might be it. Do you want —_ ::

“Yes. Go ahead and re-dock. I suspect some of the _older_ Jedi need to rest.”

Yondo began to protest. :: _Understood. We’ll be re-docking in ten._ ::

“Understood.” Revan clipped her commlink back to her belt and returned her attention to the console. “Thank you for your service, Yondo. I need to oversee the Foundry restarting, TS will return you and yours to the station entrance.”

“TS—” Yondo looked back at the ramp, where the testing room’s controller stood waiting with datapad in hand.

“Yes,” TS said. “Follow me, please.”

Yondo looked between Revan and the droid.

“You heard the lady,” she said pointedly.

She waited until they had disappeared into the Foundry proper, following TS and followed at a distance by HK. Once they were clear, she turned away and sank down against the console, resting her head in her hands.

Revan had encountered that entity a few times before. The first time she had fully immersed herself in the Force as an Initiate in the Temple, it had buffeted her curiously with a language she didn’t know. It was only several encounters in that the entity used a language she spoke, and even then it had been the same cryptic nonsense. When she was a Padawan she’d asked Kae about it, only for the woman to ask more questions than Revan felt able to answer.

The only positive encounters had been the few when she was in stasis, when Vitiate’s attention was turned elsewhere, and it was a rare, welcome respite from his intrusions. Even then it had been cryptic — but welcome. It never seemed to realize when it was distracting her, though.

T3 chirped comfortingly and reached out with his manipulator arm, petting hers. She smiled and rubbed at his top, and rested her head back against the console.

At least the station finally felt palpable.

Eventually there were steps on the ramp leading down to the control center platform. She looked up as Carth sank down to one knee ahead of her.

“You alright?”

“I'm fine.”

“You sure? Yondo said you--”

“I don't care what Yondo said.”

Carth sat down next to her. “What happened?”

“Ugh. Nothing, Carth.” He opened his mouth and she sighed. “Sorry. Yondo stresses me out.”

“I know. So. Did it work?”

“How does it feel?”

He closed his eyes. “No headache.”

“Nope.”

“Yep. It worked.” Revan leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “One clean facility ready for the Republic, Admiral.”

“We'll make the most of it while we can.”

 


End file.
